Resident Evil: Resurrection
by BizzyLiz
Summary: It's been nearly 10 years those horrendous incidents in the Arklay Mountains led to the destruction of Raccoon City. Umbrella is finished, but other dark elements have risen from the shadows. Can the ressurected S.T.A.R.S, led by Chris Redfield, prevail?
1. Chapter 1 Surrender

Disclaimer: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters, I am just a fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. I know it's a bit derivative, but any constructive comments appreciated!!!

**Chapter 1 Surrender**

She held up her arms, bent at the elbows, her hands resting uncomfortably on the back of her head. Her innate calmness belied the commotion all around her. She kneeled down, slowly. The hard concrete surface of the atrium floor hurt her knees.

''Do not move or we will shoot you. I repeat, do not move or we will shoot you'' a voice bellowed.

She had no intention of moving. She was hoping that this humiliating scenario would play itself out to the end as soon as possible. Time was running out. Every moment she spent out in the open, she was at risk.

The woman stared at the numerous figures dressed in black military fatigues, all wielding automatic weapons. They had appeared within moments of her arrival in the building, almost as though they possessed some kind of precognitive ability. Their uniforms bore no sign of name or rank, only the word S.T.A.R.Swas visible as small stitched text on the shoulders. ''My name is Elisabeth Badley.'' She shouted, not knowing which of the black figures to address. They wore balaclavas and eye masks, so she couldn't see into their eyes.

''We know who you are Dr Badley. Lie on your front with your arms behind your back. Failure to comply will result in a lethal response. No warnings.''

She did as told. A tall, athletic figure, obviously male, moved slowly forward, his weapon trained at the woman lying face down on the floor. He bound her hands behind her back with plastic ties that cut into her wrists, and ungraciously dragged her up from her position on the floor.

''Please let me walk, I will put up no resistance.'' She said calmly.

The black figure ignored her request and dragged her unceremoniously through the atrium. She was momentarily disorientated, and suddenly gripped by nausea as she was surrounded by the black figures within the claustrophobic confines of an elevator situated on the far side of the atrium. The elevator went down.

When the doors opened, all was white. The walls, floors, ceiling, and lights - everything was clean, pristine. They moved swiftly and silently along the featureless corridor. A door suddenly opened to the left. They proceeded through the door and into a small room. All of the black figures but one left the room, and the door closed quietly behind them. The remaining black figure removed the plastic ties that bound her hands behind her back. She rubbed her wrists, but the respite was temporary. Before she could become comfortable again, the figure placed her wrists in pair of manacles but this time in a more comfortable position to her front.

''Sit down.'' The black figure spoke with authority.

''I prefer to stand.''

''Fine.''

There was a long silence.

''I will only talk to Chris Redfield.''

The black figure turned to leave the room, and with a nonchalant flick of the hand he responded ''Fine. Any other requests while I'm up?''

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The black figure removed his mask and balaclava as the door to the room housing Elisabeth closed behind him. His sandy blond hair was messy, his cheeks flushed.

''Well, I didn't see this one coming. Why does she want to speak to you?'' he questioned an authoritative looking man who was propped against the wall of the corridor, his arms crossed, his brow furrowed.

''I have never met her before. I have no idea why she want's to talk to me.'' He rubbed his chin unconsciously. ''Leon'' he asked ''Why has one of Umbrella's top geneticists just walked into S.T.A.R.S headquarters?''

''I can't answer that Chris. But I'm sure this isn't going to end well.''


	2. Chapter 2 Confrontation

Disclaimer: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters, I am just a Resident Evil fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. I know it's a bit derivative, but any constructive comments appreciated!!!

**Chapter 2 Confrontation**

She sat on a simple plastic chair in a plain room with clean white tiles and a white linoleum floor. It was purposefully disorientating, she wanted to close her eyes but she couldn't show any signs of weakness, not yet. In front of her was a white plastic table. She reached out her manacled hands and picked up the plastic cup filled with water. She took a sip, the sound of her gulping was almost deafening. A large mirror dominated one of the walls. She stared at the mirror, knowing there were people behind there, recording and analysing every gesture. She grinned at the cliché. She suddenly felt like she was the star of a movie, although this moment of amusement was quickly brushed aside as she became conscious of the urgency of her situation.

''Why are you here?'' he asked firmly, annoyed with the smirk that had materialised momentarily on her face.

''I told you, I can help you.'' She said icily.

''Why are you here?''

''I know names, places...''

''Why. Are. You. _Here_?'' his tone of voice was changing, he was becoming agitated, and he wanted her to know it.

''_I can help you!!!_'' she was almost pleading now; the originally icy veneer was breaking with frustration.

He walked across the room, silently and ominously. He grabbed her by the shoulders and effortlessly lifted her from the chair, roughly pushing her against the cold white tiles of the wall. ''Why are you here?'' he shouted this time. His face was no more than an inch from hers. She could see every line, every pore; she could even see her reflection in his eyes.

''How many times do you want me to say the same thing?'' She was shouting now, although she didn't realise it. ''I want to help you, I want to use what I know to…'' she was cut off before she could finish pleading.

He shook his head, his dark, handsome features breaking into an incredulous smile; he couldn't believe what he was hearing. An ex Umbrella employee offering herself, all her knowledge, contacts, it was too good to be true. It was exactly that though, too good to be true. But he had to play this out, find out what her true intentions were. He had to find out who she was working for and the reasons behind her attempts to manipulate him. The first part of her plan had obviously worked; she had infiltrated the new S.T.A.R.S facility with virtually no effort. She had strolled up to the front door and walked right in. She had got further into the complex than the countless teams of attempted infiltrators who had tried to gain access to the new S.T.A.R.S facility over the last 12 months. The question now was why.

''No more. Time's up.'' He said as he shook his head.

''Please, I need….''

''What do you need?''

''I need…'' she paused; the words that she had been practicing were not ready to come out.

''What? What do you need? Why are you _really_ here? If there's one thing I can be sure of with you people, it's that nothing you say is the truth.'' He let her go, slightly surprised at how firm his grip on her shoulders had become. He had become conditioned to automatically hate anything connected to Umbrella, almost to the extent that his involuntary hatred scared him sometimes. She gasped as his vice-like grip relaxed, suddenly aware of the pain he had inflicted and the bruises that were already starting to form. Things were not going according to plan.

He looked straight ahead at the large mirror on the wall. ''She has nothing to offer us.'' He turned to look at her. ''It was very gracious of you giving yourself up, I'm sure you're aware that we would have caught up with you sooner or later.''

''They were going to kill me!!!!'' she screamed.

He raised his eyebrows, the tension in his shoulders loosening a little. He was intrigued to know what one of Umbrella's star geneticists had done to deserve termination. ''Why?'' he asked, his voice was almost soothing.

She was taken aback by the sudden change in the tone of his voice. She sat back down on the chair by the table, averting her eyes from his. She had another sip of water, not because she was thirsty, but because she needed the precious seconds to collect her thoughts and get back on top of this situation. He sat down on another plastic chair on the other side of the table. He fixed her with his gaze, analysing every subtle gesture, every intake of breath, trying to read through the performance.

''They were going to kill me because I wanted to leave. You could say I finally woke up to what I, they were doing.'' The calm, icy composure that she had initially displayed had returned.

''Okay,'' he said, slapping his hands down hard on the table, making her flinch. ''You want all to be forgiven because you had a bad night's sleep and a sudden fit of conscience?''

''I will do anything you ask, anything, to prove to you that I am genuine. All I ask for is your protection. If I go back out there, or to prison, I'm dead. We all lose.''

He looked at his watch, his own face now devoid of emotion. ''Okay. You have 10 minutes.''

She took a deep breath. ''I was recruited straight from college. You could say I was precocious; I had the dubious distinction of coming top in my class in genetics and it brought me to the attention of the scientific world. After my PhD, I was employed by the military to work on Project Abyss. I'll save you the effort - it was classified, you won't find any records or a paper trail. The project's objective was to devise ways to make operatives less susceptible to injury or infection in the field, and give them the ability to recover quicker. You know the threats - viral warfare, gun shot wounds, burns…..we even considered stimulating the growth of new limbs.''

''How is that possible?''

''We synthesised a small piece of DNA….''

''You mean a virus?''

''Sort of, yes. A virus is essentially a small piece of genetic material that….''

''Thank you for the science lesson doctor, get to the point''

''A virus specifically targets cells and DNA. If we can control the virus, get it to do what we want it to do, we can control the cell DNA and amazing things are possible. Anyway, our virus would bind with the host DNA and instruct the cell to divide, creating new cells and expunging the old, damaged ones at an enhanced rate. Initially the results were amazing, truly amazing - we managed to stimulate immunity to diseases that are becoming resistant to antibiotics. This was serious work - beyond anything I could have hoped for. This kind of research normally takes decades, lifetimes. I was even beginning to practice my speech for when I picked up my Nobel Prize.'' She spoke excitedly.

Chris couldn't believe what he was hearing. ''You were allowed to test this on people?''

''No, no, that would have been illegal! Just rabbits, rats, dogs. Unfortunately, after 24 hours the replicated DNA became unstable. In the worse cases, it caused uncontrolled mutation. The results could be….disturbing, but we just needed time to get it right.''

''If things were going so well, why did you leave the military labs?''

''You're a military man Chris, you know things change as governments change. The powers that be decided to redirect all the money for the Metamorphosis Abyss to something else…some missile defence system, I don't know…and suddenly I was out of work. I had an idea, I really had something that was genuinely going to make a difference, that was going to save lives. That's when I met Albert Wesker.''

Just the mention of his name made Chris flinch. Every life that this man had touched was tainted. Albert Wesker's name was synonymous with evil.

''He told me he had kept an eye on me when I was at college, he thought I was the most promising student he had ever seen. He knew I was destined for great things.''

''So you fell for simple flattery?'' he spat, amazed at the vanity of the woman sat in front of him.

''Look, I was young, it was the first time someone had reached out to me in that way. He offered me a job with Umbrella, unlimited resources to re-establish the project and see it through to the end. He even managed to get hold of all the classified military research files. I never asked how…''

''And did you see it through to the end? The last time I took a look around, we hadn't conquered death and disease.'' The sarcastic way with which Chris answered irritated Elisabeth.

''They didn't want me to see it through, not in the way I intended anyway. We had different objectives. They took my work and turned it into something….different. Instead of wanting to heal, they wanted to create monsters, mindless fighting machines. Creatures that were once men, but were now changed. They were stronger and faster with unprecedented healing abilities. They would form an unstoppable army.''

''And whoever controlled that army would control the world, right? My God, how could you be so naïve? Don't you have ethical responsibilities?''

''Maybe I let my love for my work blind me…maybe if I walked away I would lose control and it would be used for something even worse…I don't know, I'm not trying to make excuses…but I really thought the work I was doing was for the greater good.''

''So you turned a blind eye.''

''Yes.'' She stared down at her manacled hands; she seemed like a pathetic wizened figure now. ''And when I see what has happened, I know that myself, and others like me, have to bear the responsibility. I can't make things right, I'm not stupid. But I can help you; I can help you try to prevent any more wrongs. Please, let me help you.''

''Umbrella doesn't exist anymore. You can't help us bring down an organisation that's already been dissolved.''

''Look Chris, you know the Ancient Greek fairy tales. You cut off the head of the monster and another grows back in its place. Umbrella doesn't exist as a single unified entity anymore, but there are other organisations, even more sinister and even more dedicated to bringing everything you know and love to an end. They have contacts in every level of society, from the teachers in your schools to the White House. They have unlimited resources. What makes them more dangerous than Umbrella could ever be is that fact that they work in the shadows; you don't know who they are, or where they are. I was trusted. I can access this information. This is a war, whether you realise it yet or not. ''

This woman was confirming everything he already knew. Umbrella was finished, their financial power was destroyed and people were in prison, but the deaths didn't stop. For the last 5 years, Chris and his team had travelled all around the world investigating grisly incidents, mass murders, kidnappings….and they all had the mark of Umbrella. They had failed time and time again, and there seemed no end to their task. They were getting tired. They were tired of always being one step behind or 10 minutes too late. Tired of watching their colleagues, friends and family suffer and die. Could this woman, Elisabeth Badley, be the answer? Certainly she couldn't be trusted, but maybe she could help without even realising.

''Why did you ask for me? When you walked into the building, why did you ask for me? We have never met. We have no connection. There is no reason why I should help you.''

''I knew you would believe me.'' Her piercing green eyes focussed on Chris. He studied her, but she gave away nothing in her body language to demonstrate that she was lying. Or telling the truth.

Chris stared at the large mirror on the wall for what seemed like an age, trying to digest everything that he had just heard. He stood up, refusing to meet her gaze as he walked to the door in the corner of the room. As he reached the door it opened, and he walked out into the corridor to a small group of expectant faces.


	3. Chapter 3 Know your enemy

Disclaimer: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters, I am just a fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. I know it's a bit derivative, but any constructive comments appreciated!!!

**Chapter 3 Know your enemy**

Chris Redfield sat at a simple wooden desk in a sparsely furnished room with no windows. A tall grey filing cabinet was situated to the right of a heavyset door. The cream coloured walls were bare, except for a yellowing black and white photograph preserved within a wooden picture frame. The photograph was cut from a newspaper, and the faded headline 'Raccoon City Welcomes the S.T.A.R.S!' was just visible. The photograph was of a group people, all smiling as though one of their number had just told a particularly funny joke. They were dressed in gun metal grey combat trousers and fitted white t-shirts. The acronym 'S.T.A.R.S' emblazoned on the sleeve of their t-shirts was clearly visible. Situated at the front of the group was a particularly tall man with neat blond hair and sunglasses. The near-sneer of a smile and the seemingly arrogant pose implied this man was the leader of the group. The small text directly underneath the photograph revealed his identity - Albert Wesker. Standing to Wesker's immediate right was a younger version of the Chris Redfield. His face was line-free, his dark brown eyes shone with exhilaration. His lips were parted slightly as though in mid-sentence.

There were now small flecks of grey in Chris's hair, visible only when his hair caught the fluorescence of the strip light that lit the room with a sickly yellow glow. He was reading a file on the laptop sat on the desk in front of him. Scattered across the table were a number of black and white photographs. He picked up one of the photographs and examined the image of a woman and two small children, their dead, decaying bodies lying on a wooden floor. The woman's lips were curled in a silent scream. Her hands, now gripped with rigor mortis, were like claws held up in front of her, probably in one last desperate attempt to fend off her attacker. Her eyes were black marbles, dead but preserving the terror of her final moments. The children were so badly mutilated that Chris couldn't determine their sex. They were small, probably around six years old. Maybe they were twins. One of the children was clinging to the woman's leg with its left hand. The child's right arm was missing, and in its place was a twisted mat of muscle and sinew bound by dark congealed blood. Chris delicately placed the photograph down on the table. He picked up another. This was the image of a man, probably young, although his features were obscured by the deep bloody gashes across his face and neck. He was lying on his back in a cruciform position next to the driver's side of a car. His arched back preserved his agony, even in death. His shirt was torn open, revealing deep wounds that looked like they had been made by an animal with powerful claws. The car door was closed, although the driver's window was smashed and bloody. It appeared as though the young man was dragged from the car. He obviously put up a fight, but he lost.

Chris had seen these images, and countless others like them, many times over the last five years but he still felt revulsion, and he still felt pain. He was a soldier, and a very good one, but he could never quite build that wall that would isolate his emotions from the horrors around him. Chris's greatest weakness would always be the fact that he cared.

His concentration was broken suddenly by a rap on the door. He closed the laptop and quickly gathered the photographs, placing them in a brown card folder. The door opened and Leon Kennedy walked into the room. He was a tall man with an athletic build and a confident stride, although the way he was clenching and unclenching his fists suggested something was troubling him.

''Leon. You okay?''

''Hey, Chris. Can we talk?''

''I think I know what this is about. Look, I know how you feel but…''

Leon put up his hands in a pose of mock surrender.

''I haven't come to argue.'' He smiled as he gently shook his head. ''But do you think that leaving her overnight is the best thing to do? Don't you think we may be giving her more time to embellish her story?''

''I think she's already got her 'story'. The time is for me Leon. I've got to tell you the truth - I'm not sure how to handle this yet.'' Chris replied.

Darkness suddenly passed over Leon's face, his brilliant blue eyes becoming a dull shade of grey. ''Her being here makes me nervous.''

Chris took a deep breath, his chest expanding noticeably as he filled his lungs with air. ''What concerns me the most is how she found us so easily.'' He looked down at his desk and glanced at the closed folder containing the gruesome black and white images. ''We might have to move again.''

Leon nodded in silent agreement. Ever since the virtual elimination of the S.T.A.R.S following the events in the Arklay Mountains and Raccoon City back in 1998, they had all but ceased to exist. There was an enormous public backlash against the squad, mainly concerning their inability to rescue people from the city before it became overrun with the un-dead. The public never really got to hear the full story, but it angered Chris to know that they held the S.T.A.R.S as much accountable for the catastrophe as Umbrella. That is why, at first, Chris was reluctant to recreate the team, even if they were to act in secret. He did what he could on his own to fight Umbrella, and Albert Wesker, but he was soon overwhelmed.

''I think we need to find out exactly what she knows about _us_.'' Leon said.

''Whatever she knows, they know.'' Chris retorted. ''The question is, who exactly are 'they'?''

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Chris stood in the clean white bathroom. He was only wearing shorts, his clothes were now folded neatly on a wooden chair situated to the left of a bed in the adjoining room. He was leaning against a white basin and staring at himself in the mirror attached to the front of a medicine cabinet. He suddenly came out of his reverie and splashed his face with cold water. He reached to the side of the sink for a hand towel and patted his face dry. Staring once again at his reflection, he noticed the red outline of a circular scar on his chest. The wound had healed but the scar would never disappear. He traced the scar with the fingers of his right hand. He was suddenly attacked by the memory of intense pain.

''Jill'' he whispered.

He closed his eyes, fighting the memory.


	4. Chapter 4 Black holes and revelations

Disclaimer: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters, I am just a fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. I know it's a bit derivative, but any constructive comments appreciated!!!

There is a naughty word in here. You have been warned!!!!

**Chapter 4 Black holes and revelations**

Chris hadn't slept well. In fact, Chris hadn't slept well for nearly six months and it was beginning to take a toll. He took a long swig of coffee from a large mug. It temporarily sharpened his senses. He was standing in a large industrial kitchen next to a long stainless steel worktop. Six years ago, the meals for around five hundred students would have been prepared in this room, three times a day, seven days a week. The boarding school had been abandoned after a number of students had died under mysterious circumstances, and the parents had become nervous as the deaths bore uncanny similarities to the events in the Arklay Mountains a few years previous. There were investigations, but nothing ever came of it and the school quickly faded from memory. The school was an ideal location for the S.T.A.R.S. - plenty of space and no neighbours with questions.

An attractive young woman with short chestnut brown hair bounded into the kitchen. She noticed Chris straight away.

''Hey Chris! How are you this morning?'' she asked as she picked up a mug and poured herself some coffee.

''I'm fine, thanks Rebecca.'' Chris tried to sound enthusiastic. Rebecca smiled at him. He didn't look fine.

''Are you sleeping okay Chris?''

''I'm fine Rebecca.'' He said firmly.

She looked at him sympathetically. She could tell by the dark circles under his eyes that he hadn't slept well, that he was exhausted. For the last six months, every time she had asked him how he was doing, he simply replied ''Fine''. She walked closer to him and gently put her hand on his.

''I can give you something, it'll help you sleep.''

Chris moved away from her, and went to re-fill his mug in order to disguise his discomfort. Rebecca realised that she had pushed him too far. Unfortunately it was not in Chris's nature to ask for help or to accept it. She understood that as their unofficial leader, he didn't want to show any signs of weakness, so she decided to change the subject and try and ease the tension that had suddenly developed between them.

''Fancy some eggs? I really fancy some eggs.'' She said, as she buried herself in the large refrigerator at the far end of the room.

''That sounds good.'' Chris replied as he smiled weakly.

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Dr Elisabeth Badley was sitting alone in the white room. She had been sitting there for over one hour, and she knew this was all part of the interrogation process. Get into her head, break her down and make her talk. This was all a waste of time of course. She had every intention of telling them everything they wanted to know, and then some. She wanted this to be over as quickly as possible.

The room was absolutely silent, although she could sense eyes examining her from the other side of the large mirror on the wall. What secrets was she inadvertently giving away with her body language? What were they talking about? How much did they know about her? Was she already too late?

The door opened and Chris Redfield walked into the room. Elisabeth examined him, noting for the first time his intense, dark eyes, his well-defined features and muscular physique. He possessed a calm, almost ethereal presence. He looked tired though, like a man with a burden.

Chris placed a steaming mug of coffee on the table in front of Elisabeth. ''I thought you might need this.'' He said as he gestured towards the mug.

''Thanks, yes.'' She picked up the mug and took a drink. ''Thanks for leaving off the cuffs.'' She surreptitiously rubbed the red marks on her wrists created by the tight plastic ties used to subdue her the previous day.

''We won't be needing them. I'm not worried about you going anywhere. Not yet.'' Chris sat down on the plastic chair on the opposite side of the table to Elisabeth.

She smiled and finished her coffee. It tasted bitter and was almost lumpy, but she didn't want to appear ungrateful. She wanted to be the gracious prisoner.

''You should know that there was an explosive homing device in the coffee.'' Chris pulled a small metallic box, approximately the size of a cigarette lighter, from his pocket. ''Just so that we know where you are at all times. And should you decide to go somewhere you shouldn't or do something you shouldn't…..'' he pointed to a small red switch on the side of the box. ''Well, let's just say that I don't want to be on cleaning detail that day.''

She stared at him, incredulous. Wha…! You bastard! I can't believe you would do that to me…''

''Look, I don't trust you. Let's think of this as my insurance. The device can be deactivated, you just have to demonstrate to me that you're genuine.''

''So, what do you want to know first?'' she said through gritted teeth.

''I want to know everything you know about the S.T.A.R.S.''

''But why? What can I tell you that you don't already know?''

''Humour me. Please.''

She hadn't prepared for this line of questioning.

''Everything?''

''Everything.''

Elisabeth cleared her throat. ''Okay. Well, I know that you were recruited into the Special Tactics and Rescue Squad after some down time following a dishonourable discharge from the air force.'' Chris didn't appreciate being reminded of this particular part of his past. ''You guys were hand picked and trained to handle extraordinary situations way beyond the capabilities of the local authorities. By all accounts you were the best. Unfortunately, in 1998, your team wandered into the middle of a situation that it couldn't handle. And you were betrayed….''

''Wesker.'' Chris almost growled his name.

''Yes. After the viral outbreak in the Arklay lab, Albert Wesker seized the opportunity to test the combat performance of a number of his more _personal _experiments. The S.T.A.R.S. members that survived the initial onslaught in the forest became the test subjects. You certainly out-performed yourself Chris, and endeared yourself to Wesker! He has a particular dislike for you. After the events in the Arklay Mountains and the lab at the mansion house, you and the remaining members of your team made numerous attempts to destroy Umbrella. Even your sister became involved. I know all about your escapades in Antarctica. It's touching what people will do for their family.''

Chris shuddered at the thought of this. This was the last time he had been face to face with Albert Wesker, and it had been a particularly painful encounter that nearly cost him his life.

''The virus escaped, and the infection spread through Raccoon City within a matter of hours. The only contingency plan the government had for a biological threat of this magnitude was complete sterilisation. Raccoon City was destroyed.''

''And with it thousands of lives.'' Chris added. He had lost a lot of friends that day. He had nearly lost his sister too.

''Umbrella's secrets were out in the open and as a company they ceased to exist. But they were re-grouping, forming new organisations and allegiances. Despite warnings from yourself and others like you, the research continued. The big players were still in the game. Without the confines of a legitimate business and the Umbrella hierarchy, they have continued unchecked. It was only after the incident in Mexico in 2002 that the members of the government finally took notice and realised that there was a clear and present threat to national security. Unfortunately, what they don't realise is that their friends _are_ part of the threat.''

''What do you know about the Mexico incident?''

''If I'm honest, not a lot. I remember it was reported in the press as 'mass hysteria', probably drug or gang-related. A US diplomat - I don't remember his name - was kidnapped from his villa in Mexico City. Everyone was waiting for a ransom demand that never came. He was traced to a small village somewhere near the Mexican border and a team was sent to extract him. I believe you were part of that team Chris. But when you got there, everyone was dead. The evidence suggested they had killed each other in some kind of collective mad frenzy.''

Chris remembered this incident clearly. It was exactly as Elisabeth had described. It was as though an entire town had been gripped by madness. The decapitated bodies of men, women and children littered the dusty streets of a once bustling border town. Their bodies were encrusted with coagulated blood and there were dark hollows where their eyes used to be. Chris could remember the putrid stench of the bodies rotting in the hot summer sun. And the flies. Millions of flies feeding on the sinewy detritus. The diplomat was never found. At least that was what was reported in the newspapers. Chris found him in the village, a middle aged man named James Carter, cowering in a chicken coop where he had managed to hide himself amongst straw and faeces. During de-briefing, it was concluded that James was insane and he committed suicide two days later. Due to the delicacy of the situation, it was decided that the family didn't need to know the circumstances of his death. If the family were aware of his rescue and subsequent delirious state, questions would be asked. Chris was disgusted by this decision. Would the same decision be made if something was to happen to him on active duty? He hated the thought of his sister Clare, the only remaining member of his family, never knowing the truth.

''It was a test Chris, a new virus.''

''Did you have anything to do with this?''

''No. I swear this was _nothing_ to do with me. I told you yesterday, my work was about cell regeneration, medical research, I wasn't creating biological weapons.'' She shook her head fervently.

''So how did you get access to this information?''

''You could say I had some down time between experiments.''

''What does that mean?''

''I was trusted. I'm good with computers. People are too keen these days to dump all their important information on a computer instead of storing it up here.'' She tapped her head. ''And I knew that one day this would happen, and I would need something to buy my way out of trouble.''

This attitude disgusted Chris, but he could understand her motives. There was certainly no honour amongst Umbrella and its cohorts.

''So how did you find out where we were?''

''I know you guys like to keep a low profile. There was a lot of criticism directed your way after Raccoon City - people could never understand how you failed to contain the situation…..''

Chris stiffened. ''That's not how it was.'' He said defensively.

''The truth doesn't always satisfy the mob Chris. After the Mexico incident, and similar isolated incidents in Alaska and across Canada and the northern states, it was decided by the powers that be that a new threat needed a new force to combat it. S.T.A.R.S. was reborn. And as you had proven yourself again and again, you were the natural choice to assemble and lead the team.''

''We have no leader and no rank. We are all equal.'' Chris interjected.

''No leader, that's right! You have every military and medical resource available. The price is you have to remain secretive. To admit that the S.T.A.R.S exist is to admit publicly that there is a serious threat. This can bring down governments.''

''You still haven't answered my question. How did you find out where we are? ''

''I know that you have to move your base of operations regularly. Your previous facility was compromised by unknown operatives.''

''We lost some good people.'' Chris's eyes betrayed his sadness as Elisabeth forced him to re-live yet another distressing event.

Elisabeth paused. ''Someone sold you out.''

''Everyone has a price. So how did _you_ know we were here?''

''You have a hefty electricity bill for an abandoned boarding school.'' She smiled.

Chris ignored the joke. ''How did you find this place?''

''Okay, it took me several months. I tried to correlate your movements with certain 'incidents'. Hope that you'd show up.''

''So you followed me?''

''The good old fashioned way. You're a hard man to follow. You gave me the slip many times. It was almost as though you knew I was there.''

For the last few months, Chris had been semi-conscious of a small shadowy figure always just in the corner of his eye. He thought at first he was becoming paranoid as no one else saw this person, but in all of his years of experience he had learned to trust his senses. He was very rarely wrong.

There was a hard knock on the door as it open and a young man with very short spiky hair poked his head around the door.

''Sir, err, Chris, we need you a minute. It's important.''

Elisabeth shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Chris noticed this.

''Coming.'' He said to the young man. He shifted his attention to Elisabeth. ''I'll be back.''

Chris followed the young man into the corridor, leaving Elisabeth alone in the room.

''He's in your office.'' the young man said to Chris.

Chris nodded and proceeded down the corridor.

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Chris walked into his office and regarded a dishevelled, Hispanic-looking man slumped on his chair. His hair was matted and he clearly hadn't shaved for several days. Casually balanced in his right hand was a cigarette burning down to the butt. He was wearing a black jacket and combat pants that were ripped in a number of places revealing patches of red bloody skin. Chris noticed a number of rounded, regular holes in his kevlar vest that he had discarded on the floor next to the desk.

''Carlos, what happened?''

''Long story my friend; we can talk about that later. More important is that I have some information concerning our guest.''

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Leon watched through the two-way mirror as Chris left the interrogation room. Carlos must be back. He had been out in the field for the past four days to meet with an informant who had some information regarding a new laboratory in the mid-west. Leon had become very good friends with Carlos in the last few years. They worked well together in the field and trusted each other implicitly.

Leon shifted his gaze back towards the solitary figure sat in the plain white room. He knew she was conscious of being watched and was modifying her behaviour accordingly. She wasn't a particularly imposing figure. She was wearing dark denim jeans, a snug white vest top and black boots. She was average height and build with mid-length blond hair loosely tied back. From the muscle definition of her arms and back, Leon deduced that she was in good physical condition. She didn't have the physique of a researcher who spends most of their time staring down a microscope in a laboratory. Although her body remained perfectly still, Leon could see her bright green eyes analysing every inch of the room. Was she looking for a way out? He was sure that she had received some kind of military training. He had gone through the arduous process himself a number of years before, and he was sure that he could recognise others that had gone through the same process. How else could someone have managed to follow Chris Redfield?

Leon had confessed to Chris the previous evening that her presence made him nervous. He knew that this woman was dangerous and he knew that she was going to bring the S.T.A.R.S. trouble. She was clearly intelligent, had connections and could probably look after herself. So why would she come to the S.T.A.R.S. for help? What could they really offer her? He had the feeling that her appearance was the beginning of something bigger, the endgame. The players were positioning their pieces in preparation for the onslaught, and the S.T.A.R.S. were the target. There was only one thing he could do. He had to gain her trust.

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''Are you sure about this Carlos?''

''There's no doubt.''

Carlos handed Chris a compact disc that he promptly loaded into his laptop. Through the eerie light of the laptop screen that gently lit up Chris's face, Carlos could see his eyes darting from left to right as he skimmed through the information contained on the disc. His face was completely devoid of emotion.

Chris stood up.

''Go see Rebecca, get her to check you out. We can't afford to have you out of action for too long. I have to go and ask our guest some more _detailed_ questions.'' With that, he opened the top drawer of his desk and removed a gun.

Chris picked up the folder of photographs on his desk that he had studied yesterday, and made towards the door. With a lot of effort, Carlos dragged himself out of the chair.

''Hang on Chris…..'' Carlos implored, but Chris was already out of the room.

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Leon had just left the room adjoining the interrogation room where Dr Elisabeth Badley was being held when he noticed Chris and Carlos at the far end of the corridor. Leon watched as the two men talked animatedly. They were just too far away for him to hear what they saying, although he tell could from the way that Chris's shoulders stiffened that Carlos hadn't delivered the good news he was expecting. As Chris began to walk back down the corridor in Leon's direction, Carlos said something inaudible and gently put his hand on Chris's shoulder in a half-hearted attempt to impede his progress. Chris turned suddenly to face his colleague.

''This has gone on for long enough Carlos.''

''Don't do something you might regret Chris. Chris. Chris!'' But Chris had already turned his back on Carlos, and was again walking in Leon's direction, back towards the interrogation room, back towards Dr Badley. Chris brushed past Leon, barely noticing his existence, as he opened the door to the room and disappeared. Leon looked inquisitively at Carlos.

''There's more to our guest than meets the eye.'' Carlos said. '' Leon, we need to talk.''

Leon nodded. Suddenly Carlos's eyes appeared to roll towards the back of his head. He staggered and reached out for Leon's shoulder to help him balance. ''I feel terrible.'' he said when he seemed to regain his composure.

Leon regarded him with concern. ''Let's get you to Rebecca. Then we can talk.''

With that, Leon helped his friend towards the medical wing. Whatever he had to say was going to have to wait until tomorrow.

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Elisabeth looked up as Chris entered the room. His face was twisted with fury.

Chris violently threw the folder of photographs at Elisabeth. She twisted to the left, the folder grazing her cheek as it hit the wall and spilled its contents across the floor. Chris darted across the room, he grabbed the straps of Elisabeth's vest top, picked her up like a rag doll and dragged her across to the photographs on the floor. He forced her down to her knees. Chris picked up one of the photos and brandished the image…

''This is Damien Johnson. He was the assistant manager of a small seven-eleven in some nowhere town. He had a wife, 9 month old child and a mortgage. Now he has a hole where his heart used to be.''

Chris let the photograph fall to the floor. He tightened his grip on Elisabeth. With his free hand, he searched through the images on the floor and selected another. Elisabeth tried to look away, but he thrust the picture into her face.

''This is Lisa Johnson.'' He said through gritted teeth. ''She used to work at the hospital; she helped rehabilitate people with serious brain injury.'' Elisabeth struggled half-heartedly against Chris's grasp. ''Now she's missing her head and a number of vital internal organs.''

''Stop! I….I….I don't understand!'' Elisabeth's voice cracked as her eyes became moist.

Chris let the photograph drop, and he picked up another.

'' This is Adrian Nash….''

''Stop it!''

''He was a medical student at the university.''

''Please, stop it!'' she whimpered. She was crying now, uncontrollable sobs.

''We found half of him in the river; hell knows where other half is.''

''Please.'' She was shaking her head side to side, trying desperately to blank out these horrific images and to find a way to sate Chris's anger. She was afraid.

Chris roughly pushed her face into the photographs scattered on the floor. He could feel his body trembling violently as the adrenaline coursed through his veins, his heart rate was increasing and he was breathing rapidly. ''Each one of these pictures is a life - a life that you helped destroy!'' he shouted.

Chris released Elisabeth. He straightened up and backed away from her. He turned his back; he couldn't look at her face anymore. Chris had regained his composure, but he was shocked at the way he had lost control. For a brief moment he had wanted to kill her and avenge those people. The people's whose name's and histories he had memorised. But he knew that would make him no better than those he was fighting. No better than Wesker.

Suddenly realising she had been released, Elisabeth rotated her body and sat on the floor, her back to the wall for support. She was breathing heavily and her face was now red and puffy from her tears. There was something warm and damp on her upper lip. She reached up to wipe away the irritant and was shocked to see droplets of blood on her fingers.

Chris broke the temporary silence. ''Give me one good reason why I shouldn't throw you out there, and let them take care of you.''

She looked up at him in silence, searching his face for a way in. He knew everything now and she was in deep trouble, but she didn't know what to say.

Chris walked towards the door. He reached for the handle.

''I know where Jill Valentine is.''

Chris stopped, his hand frozen in mid-air. He turned around slowly to face Elisabeth.

''Jill?''

She nodded.


	5. Chapter 5 Butterflies and hurricanes

Disclaimer: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters, I am just a fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. I know it's a bit derivative, but any constructive comments appreciated!! I think we can play cliché bingo with this chapter. Still, hope you enjoy it.

**Chapter 5 Butterflies and hurricanes**

Carlos pressed his back against the tree trunk. As the black-clad soldier approached, Carlos silently shifted clockwise around the circumference of the tree in an attempt to remain out of sight. There was suddenly a loud snap. His mouth opened in a silent scream. He looked down and realised that he had stepped in an iron animal trap. He bit down hard onto his gloved hand, his body silently convulsing as he tried to dissipate the pain. One of his numerous pursuers had heard the snap, and had shifted his attention in Carlos's direction looking for the origin of this un-natural sound.

His back still pressed firmly to the tree, Carlos slowly crouched. He felt for the iron trap that was expertly hidden in the undergrowth, his hands tracing its jagged outline. He had to muster all of his strength to prise it apart. There was the agonising screeching sound of metal grinding against metal. He breathed in sharply as blood rushed through his injured leg, the pain intensifying. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing, dampening the pain.

Suddenly a strong black-gloved hand reached around the tree and grabbed Carlos by the throat. He was dragged roughly through the undergrowth. Unable to focus, all he could see was a disorientating mass of dark green and black. He gulped for air as the hand tightened around his throat. He desperately swung his arms. Crack. He had made contact with his assailant's nose that then burst open, showering Carlos with a fine mist of blood. His assailant cursed. Carlos realised at once that he was released and he fled.

He ran awkwardly through the trees, tripping on broken branches and slipping on wet fallen leaves. Even above the sound of his own heavy breathing, he could hear his pursuers as they expertly negotiated the debris on the forest floor. Carlos pushed his way through a thick bush. The spindly thorns tore into his face as he fought his way through. Only at the very last minute as he emerged on the other side of the bush did he notice the deep gorge cut into the soft landscape by a river immediately in front of him. He desperately stumbled backwards, kicking dirt and leaf litter down into the foaming water below. He looked left and right for an escape route but it was too late. They had caught up with him. Even above the deafening roar of the river below, he could hear someone shouting orders.

''Put your hands behind your head and turn around!''

Carlos turned around slowly and deliberately, his hands held up behind his head in surrender. This was his first opportunity to properly observe his pursuers. He was facing the point man who now had a bloodied nose. The point man was tall, well over six feet, with broad shoulders and long muscular legs. He had cropped black hair and deep set eyes that were an unusual crimson colour. He was dressed in black army fatigues, similar to what Carlos himself was wearing, although there was a square symbol on the left shoulder with some embroidered letters that Carlos couldn't discern in the moonlight. Two more soldiers stood approximately five metres to the rear of the point man; their automatic weapons were trained on him. Carlos could hear more of them tearing through the forest some way in the distance. Now that he had been discovered, they didn't need to be quiet anymore. He guessed that they would arrive on the scene within a minute. Whatever he was going to do, he had to do it now.

''On your knees! Now!'' The point man had a deep, slightly nasal voice.

Carlos complied. The damp chill of the forest floor seeped through his trousers, attacking his aching knees. The wound on his ankle was throbbing, but he blocked out the pain.

''Give me the disc.''

''What disc?'' Carlos shrugged his shoulders innocently.

The point man cocked his weapon.

''Okay, okay. It's in my pocket. I need to get to my pocket.'' He said calmly

''Slowly.'' replied the point man.

At an almost leisurely pace, Carlos moved his hand from behind his head and reached towards his back pocket. His fingers felt the firm handle of his knife. He gently pulled the handle, releasing the knife from its sheath. The muscles in his arms contracted. He steadied his breath as he analysed the location of his target. He yanked his arm forward and threw the knife, hard. The knife hit the target and the point man crumpled to the floor with a throaty groan. Carlos turned his attention to the other two soldiers, but they were much quicker than he had anticipated. Before he could react, he heard the sound of automatic gun fire. His nostrils sensed the characteristic smell of burnt gunpowder.

For a moment, everything was still. Carlos could feel a gentle breeze that irritated the cuts and scratches on his face. He could hear droplets of water falling from the tree branches and hitting the rotting leaf litter. He could hear the sound of his thumping heart in the back of his throat. Suddenly, Carlos doubled over, clutching his chest. He gulped for air as he realised that he had been shot. He stumbled backwards, disorientated, realising too late he was getting closer and closer to the edge of the gorge. He tumbled backwards, his arms flailing as he tried to find something to cling on to. He could feel himself falling but he couldn't scream. He suddenly felt freezing cold and wet.

Then there was darkness.

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The dark figure on the forest floor slowly pushed himself up to his feet, gradually uncurling his spine and re-stacking his vertebrae. He reached upward with his left hand towards the knife that was embedded in his neck. His gloved fingers gripped the handle and pulled hard. There was a pop as the knife came free and blood was sprayed across the nearby trees. The figure briefly examined the knife and then carelessly discarded it. It made a thud as it hit the damp forest floor.

The figure pressed his hand to the minute communication device in his ear.

''We made contact with the informant and the S.T.A.R.S.operative. The informant is dead but we have lost Oliveira.''

He walked across to the edge of the gorge and looked down at the steaming torrent below. There was no sign of a body.

''No sir, we were unable to recover the disc.''

He signalled to the other soldiers who had just arrived on the scene.

''We're finished here. Let's go.''

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Carlos awoke with a start. He was lying face down on a pebble bar in a shallow pool next to the river. As he pushed himself up to his knees, he felt a throbbing pain in his chest. He began to cough violently and water was expelled from his lungs. He looked down and saw three regular holes in his kevlar vest. The soldiers he had faced in the forest had impeccable aim. Each shot was a kill shot. He traced the holes with his fingers, realising how close he had come.

''Jesus.'' He groaned.

It was fortunate that they hadn't aimed for his head. The vest had stopped the bullets, but he still felt like had had been hit by a truck. He was then aware of a searing pain in his ankle. He investigated the wound inflicted by the trap. The trap's teeth had penetrated his leather boots, leaving a number of deep, regularly-spaced holes that were oozing blood.

''Bloody barbarians.'' He muttered. He tore a strip from his shirt and tightly bound the wound on his ankle.

He didn't know how long he had been unconscious. It was now sunrise, so he deduced he had been out for at least six hours. He wasn't sure how far down the river he had been taken by the current, and whether the soldiers had continued their pursuit. He reached into his back pocket and felt the cold hard exterior of a cd box. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Carlos reached for the radio that was clipped to his belt. He tapped the ear piece and pressed the buttons repeatedly. There was some punctuated crackling, but then nothing. His radio was broken and he had no means of contacting a rescue squad. He was alone. He had operated alone many times before and handled some precarious situations, but there was something about this encounter that made him particularly uneasy. These soldiers were different - they were exceptionally well trained, quick and intelligent. Much better than the typical rent-a-villains that he had encountered in previous missions with the S.T.A.R.S. There seemed to be some connection between their appearance and his acquisition of the disc - it was just too much of a coincidence otherwise.

He pushed himself to his feet, his injured ankle almost giving way as it took his weight. Tentatively, he walked forward. His ankle hurt, but the pain subsided with each step as the adrenaline kicked in. He began to walk carefully along the muddy river bank, tracing the river's sinuous path. Although he had lost the map during his escape through the forest, from memory he knew that there was a small town located somewhere along this river. There must be a telephone in this town.

Carlos had been walking for a number of hours. Although his senses were dulled by thirst and hunger, the distinctive sound of a helicopter was carried on the wind. He looked up and scanned the sky. There was a small black dot in the distance, situated just above the tree line, and getting larger with every second. As the helicopter came closer, he realised that it was not a S.T.A.R.S. aircraft. It seemed likely that they were the people who were chasing him the previous night and they were now searching for him, or his body, along the river. In an attempt to get out of sight, he dashed into a thinly wooded area adjacent to the river. He looked up from the trees as the helicopter passed overhead. He could see the black outlines of soldiers wielding machine guns. Then there were gunshots. Tree trunks appeared to explode around all him. He began to run and the bullets tore up the dirt at his feet. As he ran, the trees were gradually becoming denser, offering him more protection. However, he was finding it increasingly difficult to negotiate the irregular ground with his injury. The pain was now so intense that he thought he was going to vomit.

The sound of the helicopter blades became muffled. Carlos stopped running and leaned against a tree, exhausted. He began to cough heavily as he tried to calm his breathing. The lack of oxygen made him feel light-headed and he stumbled backwards down a muddy slope, unable to steady his footing. He tried to grab tree branches and bushes to slow his descent, but they were wet and slipped through his gloved fingers. He crashed against a large limestone boulder and tumbled forwards. Suddenly he collapsed into the middle of a muddy road, landing face-down in a large puddle. He cursed, and wiped the mud and grit from his face as he pushed himself to his knees. Only then did he realise that a jeep was bearing down on him at tremendous speed. Carlos froze. He braced himself for the impact, but the driver slammed the brakes and the car came to a stop a hair's breadth in front of his face.

''Get in!'' the driver screamed.

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Carlos awoke sharply. For a moment he wasn't sure where he was. His eyes struggled with the darkness, and eventually he could see that he was in a small room, no more than ten foot squared. He could discern no features other than a small cabinet to the right of the bed in which he was lying.

''Bad dream?'' A chirpy voice called from somewhere in the room. With some effort, Carlos leaned forward to see who was talking to him. He spotted a small figure wearing a white lab coat on far side of the room. It was Rebecca Chambers, the S.T.A.R.S physician. Rebecca walked across the room and pulled open a blind. Bright sunlight flooded in. Carlos blinked as his eyes readjusted.

''Hi.'' He said gruffly. It hurt to talk and he unconsciously rubbed his chest.

''You had a fever so I gave you some antibiotics for the wounds on your ankle. The lucid dreaming is probably a side affect. You've also got some nasty bruising on your chest. I'm afraid you're going to be a little tender for a while, but nothing permanent. Just rest for a few days and everything will be fine.''

Rebecca's calm, soothing voice and gentle demeanour belied her ferocious intellect. She was the S.T.A.R.S. head physician at the personal request of Chris Redfield. Together, Chris and Rebecca had survived the Arklay incident a number of years previous, and she was one of the few people that he trusted implicitly.

''How long was I out?'' Carlos asked as he sat upright and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

''Just a few hours.'' She said as she walked across to his bedside and gently took his wrist, measuring his pulse. ''Don't you even think about leaving here yet.'' She said as she looked at her watch.

''I'm fine Rebecca, honest.''

''Everyone around here is 'fine'. You know I'd prefer it if I never saw any of you in the medical wing. But when you're down here, I'm in charge!'' She said in mock anger. ''Anyway, you have a visitor.'' She smiled as she walked out of the room and Leon Kennedy's head appeared through the door.

''Hey, you're awake!''

''Leon.'' Carlos reached across to the cabinet on the right side of his bed and picked up a tracksuit top.

''How you feeling? You look a lot better than yesterday. Rebecca was worried about you.''

''Nah, had worse.'' He said dismissively. ''What I really need now is some good food and a beer.'' He winced as he put on the tracksuit top. Carlos pushed himself off the bed and stood on the cold hard tile floor. He was expecting some pain from his ankle, but it was a dull ache now rather than the excruciating pain he had felt before.

Carlos suddenly looked serious. ''Have you spoken to Chris?''

''No, not yet. Chris spent most of last night interrogating that researcher. She claims to have some information on Jill.''

Carlos nodded. ''If what Jimmy told me is right, she has a lot of information.''

''I need you to tell me everything Carlos. I don't want Chris doing anything stupid. He really isn't himself right now.''

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Carlos and Leon were seated at the end of the long stainless table in the kitchen. Carlos was eating a steak sandwich. There were drips of grease and relish on his chin that he wiped clumsily away with his fingers. Leon wandered across to the large refrigerator and grabbed two bottles of beer. He opened them, and slid one across the table towards his friend.

''Thanks'' Carlos said appreciatively as he picked up the bottle and drank. ''Simple pleasures'' he said quietly.

''Tell me what happened Carlos.''

''Well, it was a straightforward mission. I had to meet with James McGarver - Jimmy - out on the old forest road, our usual meeting place.''

''How long has he been undercover?'' Leon asked. James McGarver was a talented S.T.A.R.S. operative who specialised in working undercover. He had managed to gain employment as the head of security in a new laboratory that the S.T.A.R.S suspected was involved with illegal research funded and controlled by ex-members of the Umbrella Corporation. Leon only really knew James by face as James preferred to keep himself relatively isolated from the rest of the squad in case of capture and interrogation.

''He's been under for over six months. He had some information regarding a new project that he considered so important that he would risk breaking cover. It _was_ unusual behaviour for him, but there was no way that he would contact me unless he felt it necessary.'' Carlos unconsciously ran his fingers through his dark, mid-length hair. It was no longer matted and encrusted with mud.

''They appeared from _nowhere_. And they killed him. Single shot to the head. No warnings, no questions. They must have tailed him, which surprises because I always thought Jimmy was too good to get caught like that.'' He took a swig of beer. ''If they knew he was a mole, why didn't they kill him before he left the lab with the disc?''

''It sounds like a set-up to me.'' Leon was concerned. Were they trying to find out who Jimmy's contact was? In which case they were led to Carlos. Or were they trying to locate the S.T.A.R.S?

''There was something about them Leon, I don't know what, but they were _good_.''

''So they're paying for better help these days. So what? We just have to stay sharp, not get complacent like Jimmy.''

''You don't understand. I'm good, but they were _better_. I couldn't hear them, even in the forest. They were like ghosts.''

''Were they _human_?'' Leon asked.

''Oh yeah, they were human. They communicate. They bleed. The only really strange thing about them was the colour of their eyes. They were pink, almost like an albino.''

''But they can be killed.''

''I killed one of them, I think.'' Carlos relayed his altercation with the point man to Leon. He also described his chase through the forest, his encounter with the animal trap and his fall down the gorge into the river.

There was a brief silence as Leon digested Carlos's story. ''How can we be sure that the information on the disc is accurate? If Jimmy _was_ set-up, it might just be a ruse to draw us there for something.''

''The disc has plans of the new facility, details of the staff and some of the research records. I'm guessing we have less than forty eight hours before they make that facility disappear. I don't know if the information is real - Jimmy seemed sure it was….''

''But we know someone who can verify it.'' Leon said matter-of-factly.

''Yes. Jimmy talked to me specifically about Elisabeth Badley. She's some genius geneticist who was leading the research at the new laboratory. She used to work for Umbrella. She's smart; apparently she doesn't record her research and keeps a lot of it in her head. Her insurance, probably. It seems she was in negotiation to work for another organisation, but Jimmy seemed sure she was going to come to us.''

''So they caught her selling secrets.'' Leon smiled sarcastically. ''They kill people for far less. She probably thinks that the S.T.A.R.S can protect her.''

''You're probably right. There's certainly a contract on her life. It looks like whoever she crossed is willing to sacrifice all the research data in her head in order to eliminate her.''

''Her being here puts us all in danger.'' Leon's worse fears had been confirmed.

''Absolutely.'' Carlos retorted.

''But we need to find out if the data on the disc is real. We don't want any surprises if we go in there.'' Leon then stood up abruptly. ''We've got to talk to Chris.''


	6. Chapter 6 Into the belly of the beast

Disclaimer: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters, I am just a fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. I know it's a bit derivative, but any constructive comments appreciated!! This chapter was even _bigger_ than this, but I've had to cut it into two otherwise it would be just too long.

**Chapter 6 Into the belly of the beast**

Carlos was walking purposefully down a long white corridor. He had a slight limp, and every so often he winced as a sudden pain originating from his ankle shot up his leg. He was replaying in his mind the events that had transpired over the last few days, including his conversation with Jimmy, when suddenly he felt someone pat him hard on the back. He turned around to see Claire Redfield's beaming face. The light emanating from the fluorescent bulbs on the ceiling was reflected by her unmistakeable long red hair.

''Looking good Carlos!'' her face was animated, her brilliant blue eyes flashing.

''Thanks.'' He was a little embarrassed that he hadn't had the opportunity to talk to her since she had picked him up in the mountains, all battered and bruised on the dirt road, two days ago. He had promptly fallen unconscious when he got in the car, partly from the pain of his ordeal, and partly through sheer exhaustion. Claire had a gift of being in the right place at the right time.

''In all this…err…mess…I didn't get the chance to thank you properly, for coming to get me.''

''Hey, it's my job. You did sleep like a baby on the drive back though.'' She teased. ''So what's going on? Why has Chris called a meeting?''

''It's something to do with Jill.''

''Jill?''

''Apparently that scientist knows where she is.''

''How many more times Carlos?'' Claire said, barely hiding her frustration.

''I don't know Claire, this time it feels different. Jimmy said something about…''

Claire interrupted him. ''We've spent the last six months looking for Jill. Following lead after lead, but we're just chasing ghosts.'' She stopped walking and faced Carlos. ''And every time we get somewhere, and she isn't there, it kills him.''

''I know, but…''

''No, I don't think you do Carlos.'' she said gently, almost whispering. ''You don't know my brother like I do. He won't let this go, and he'll obsess and let it burrow into his head until……. I just wish we'd found her body so we could stop this and he could mourn for her.''

''I care for Jill too you know. Let's just listen to what he has to say.''

''I will. But this _has_ to be the last time.''

They resumed their walk along the corridor until they reached a set of large heavy wooden doors. They entered a large room dominated by a massive wooden conference table. The table was surrounded by twelve chairs, the upholstery on which was worn with small clumps of stuffing escaping where the stitching had burst open. On one of the magnolia-painted walls was a large aerial photograph of the boarding school and the surrounding countryside. The photograph was framed and the year ''2000'' was etched into a bronze plaque situated on the bottom left hand corner. There was a large projection screen on another wall.

Scattered across the table were a number of large sheets of paper - Carlos realised immediately that they were the plans of the facility that Jimmy had stolen and given to him a few days ago. He felt a small twinge in his stomach as he remembered that these plans had cost Jimmy his life.

Chris Redfield was standing at one end of the room in front of the projection screen. He was reading through some papers and barely acknowledged Claire and Carlos as they entered the room and sat down. Claire placed her laptop in front of her on the table. She opened it and began to type noisily on the keyboard, slightly annoyed at the way her brother had chosen to ignore her. Carlos poured himself a glass of water from the one of the large jugs that were sat on a tray in the middle of the table.

They sat there in silence. The silence was only broken when the heavy wooden doors opened again, and Leon Kennedy entered the room.

''They're bringing her up from the cells now.'' he spoke directly to Chris who looked up at him and nodded.

''Good.'' Chris replied.

Leon sat down next to Claire and sneakily squeezed her knee under the table. Claire didn't flinch and carried on typing, but he saw the corners of her mouth curl upwards in a carefully disguised smile.

Moments later, Dr Elisabeth Badley entered the room, flanked by two young S.T.A.R.S. members. She felt self conscious as everyone's eyes followed her as she walked around the table and sat alone on the far side. She looked very uncomfortable.

''May I?'' she asked as she gestured towards the water jugs in the middle of the table.

''Go ahead.'' Chris said.

She slowly reached for the jug and filled a glass. Taking a drink, she was very much aware that their eyes were _still_ fixed upon her. Where they waiting for her to do something?

''Right.'' Chris said firmly, and his hands tapped the sheets of paper scattered across the table. ''You're going to tell us everything you know about this facility. And you're tell us how we can get in.''

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They had been in the conference room for over one hour. The two young S.T.A.R.S. operatives that had been stood outside blocking the door could hear raised voices within, but they couldn't hear the conversation that was going on inside. The smaller one, who had blonde hair and a young face, turned to face his colleague, giving him a knowing smile.

Inside the room, Elisabeth was talking. She slammed her hands on the table, exasperated.

''Listen to me. How many more times do you want me to say the same thing? I don't care what your man on the inside said, I wasn't in charge of that facility. I was in charge of the labs - _only_ the labs. There were places that even I didn't have clearance for.''

''Like what?''

''Sub-basement level three.''

Chris looked at the plans of the facility scattered across the table. He shook his head.

''There are no sub-basements on these plans.''

''Well of course there aren't.'' she replied, condescendingly. ''They were part of a pre-existing structure. It was a prison or something. These plans are only of the new building. They only removed the surface structures before they built the new facility.''

''It's probable Chris.'' Claire interjected as she was typing furiously on the laptop sat on the table in front of her. ''Apparently it was a hospital for the criminally insane until 1972.'' She laughed awkwardly.

''So what happened in 1972?'' Chris asked.

''It was closed down by the authorities. It seems that they were mistreating some of the patients - all kinds of experiments.''

''Well that makes sense.'' Leon said sardonically, rolling his eyes. ''I guess some places are just built on evil.''

Chris began to walk around the long table towards Elisabeth. ''So Jill is being held in one of these sub-basements? Are you sure?''

''She must be. I only found out she was in the facility a week ago. Look, I'll tell you everything you need to know to get in there. There are no blind spots to the security cameras - you will get caught by the building's defence mechanisms if you don't do it right. See here…..'' she gestured to a position on the plans with her finger. ''This air duct crosses these rooms in the northeast part of the building. You can use the duct to access this hidden level here.'' She traced her finger along the length of the air duct that was marked by a dashed line. She then pointed to a blank space. ''There's an elevator here….this should take you down to the sub-basements.''

Chris unconsciously rubbed his chin, realising suddenly that he hadn't shaved. He lent on the table, staring blankly at the scattered papers for a moment. Then he looked up.

''Leon, Claire - make yourselves familiar with the layout of this place. We're going in tonight.'' He then turned to face Elisabeth. ''You're coming too.''

Elisabeth straightened up and faced Chris. Claire and Leon looked at each other; they were obviously thinking the same thing.

''Oh no..no..no…no...no! I can't come…this isn't part of the deal…..they know me. They'll kill me on sight. _If I'm lucky_.''

''Yeah, and they'll hug us like long lost friends!'' Leon retorted sarcastically.

Chris disregarded Elisabeth's objections. ''A lot of the data on the disk we retrieved was corrupted. We need to access the servers again. You can do that can't you?''

''Yes, but…''

Chris shifted his attention to Carlos.

''You're on comms duty.''

''What?'' he shook his head in disbelief. ''Jill was my friend too. I want to be in on this.''

''If you can't run, you're no good to me.'' Chris said harshly. Carlos then muttered something in Spanish that none of them could understand, but they were pretty certain from the tone that it wasn't pleasant.

''Is there a problem?''

''No.'' Carlos muttered.

''20:00 hours, I want you all ready by the chopper. Claire - get her some clothes.''

Before anyone had time to object or discuss Chris's plan, he had left the room.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Four figures, all dressed in black, snug-fitting military fatigues, dropped silently from an open air duct that ran the length of a long white corridor.

One of the figures removed their black balaclava, revealing a sleek red ponytail. ''We made it in. That was almost too easy.'' Claire said as she took out her pistols and scanned the length of the corridor.

Chris put his hand to his ear, activating his radio. ''Carlos, do you still have our position?''

''Bright and clear.'' came the response. ''The main laboratory complex is just behind you. According to Elisabeth, the elevator to the sub-basements should be at the far end of the corridor.''

''Okay,'' Chris began. ''Claire and I are going to go down for Jill. You two…'' he pointed to Leon and Elisabeth. ''…are going to download as much as you can from the server. We need to find out who's running the show here.''

''Let's go.'' Leon patted Elisabeth on the shoulder. ''Good luck, be careful.'' Leon said as he winked at Claire. He then looked at Chris. They didn't say anything to one another, they just nodded.

Claire watched as Elisabeth and Leon disappeared through a set of sliding doors at the far end of the corridor. She was concerned - just like her brother Chris, she didn't trust this woman. She didn't - _couldn't_ - trust anyone connected to Umbrella, no matter where their current allegiances lay. But they needed her. The power of the organisations that had supplanted Umbrella reached into the upper echelons of the military, and probably the government. They frequently used their power and influence to suppress the activities of the S.T.A.R.S, which was another reason why they had to act discretely. Many of their missions had resulted in failure. Their informants or witnesses would disappear. They would arrive to empty buildings knowing that their targets had left minutes before, destroying any credible evidence. It was difficult to trust people now.

Chris and Claire reached the elevator at the opposite end of the corridor. There was a keypad instead of a call button. Using a small screwdriver that she retrieved from her utility belt, Claire prised away the front of the key pad, exposing a tangle of wires. After analysing the circuit for a moment, she stripped the plastic coating from a number of the wires and tied them together. There were a few sparks followed a fizzing sound as the elevator doors opened.

''Too easy.'' She smiled.

They entered the elevator and pressed the button for sub-basement level three.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leon and Elisabeth walked slowly through the glass-walled laboratory complex. It was eerily quiet - the only sound was the dull hum of the air conditioning. There were half finished cups of coffee and half-eaten sandwiches sat by work stations where the computer monitors were still turned on. It looked like everyone had left just a few moments ago.

''This way.'' She gestured to Leon. ''My office is just down here. I can access the server from my old workstation.''

Leon nodded, and they began to walk faster. Moments later, she motioned him to stop.

''This is it.'' She entered a code on the keypad by the door and smiled. ''I can't believe they didn't change the code.''

''Neither can I.'' Leon said, a little concerned at just how easy this was.

''Okay….'' she moved across the office and sat on a chair by the desk pushed against the far wall. She flicked on the computer and began typing on the keyboard. She groaned and rolled her eyes. ''Looks like they've revoked my access privileges. Just give me a minute…''

Leon surveyed the walls of her office. One of the walls was covered by an enormous white board. Scribbled on it were numerous chemical equations, notes and reminders. His eyes were then drawn to a framed photograph of Elisabeth on the wall by her desk. She was wearing a black graduation gown and mortar board hat while clutching a rolled piece of parchment tied by a red ribbon. She was standing, smiling, on a lush green lawn in front of a grand old sandstone building. Just on the edge of the photograph was the dark outline of a man's shoulders. Leon couldn't identify his face as it was covered by the frame.

Leon looked at his watch. ''How long?''

''Just give me one minute.''

He checked his weapon - a desert eagle handgun in pristine condition - and stood in the door frame, looking left and right down the corridor. Still nothing - not a sound.

''Okay, I'm in.'' She inserted a grey box into the USB hub on her computer. A number of small red lights began to flash. ''I'm uploading the data now. Looks like it'll take about….mmm… three minutes.''

Leon tapped the radio in his ear.

''Carlos, we're in the server. You should be receiving the data now. Confirm.''

''I got it Leon.'' Carlos responded.

Leon's attention was suddenly diverted by a noise at the far end of the lab complex. It sounded like something slapping against glass. The slapping noise was getting louder and louder, and more and more vigorous. Then there was the sound of breaking glass and the lights went out. The emergency lights came on soon after, bathing the lab area in a dull green glow. Large shadows crawled out of the corners.

Elisabeth's head snapped around to face Leon. She looked scared.

''You stay here and finish this.'' he said pointing to the computer. ''I'm going to see what that noise was. I suggest you lock the door behind me.''

He re-checked his weapon and stepped out into the corridor. The office door closed and locked behind him. He walked slowly and deliberately to the far side of the lab, pointing his gun into the shadows. He found the source of the noise.

At the far end of the laboratory, there was a re-enforced glass holding cell. The cell was small, no more than six feet squared, with an iron grille floor. The cell wall was smashed. There were drips of blood on the broken glass - it looked like the occupant of the cell had escaped. Leon looked down and noticed a trail of smeared blood on the floor. There was a noise - it sounded like something heavy being dragged. Slowly, he followed the trail of blood on the floor.

A pair of legs came into view. It was a man - he appeared to be pulling himself forwards towards a lab bench, and then with what seemed like an enormous effort, he pulled himself to his feet. He stood against the bench, unstable and swaying. Leon moved in closer.

''Jimmy?'' he gasped.

''Leon.'' His voice was like a throaty gargle, almost inhuman. ''Get….away…..from…me..!''

Leon strode across to Jimmy, placing his hand on his shoulder. ''C'mon. You're coming with me.''

''No!'' he pushed Leon away.

Leon studied him more closely. He could see a small red circular mark on his forehead. It was a bullet wound. Carlos had said that the soldiers who ambushed them in the forest had shot Jimmy in the head, point blank. There was no way he could have survived. The man - _thing_ - standing in front of him couldn't be his old S.T.A.R.S. colleague. Could it? But he could speak, he seemed self aware. His hands were cut, raw and bleeding. The cell walls were several inches thick - to break them would have required formidable strength.

''God, Jimmy, what have they done to you?''

Jimmy then started to convulse violently. Screaming, he was barely able to remain upright; his knuckles were white as he clung to the bench. Almost as suddenly as this fit began, it ceased and he stood there, deathly still. He slowly straightened-up, seemingly more stable now, and looked down at his outstretched hands, almost like he was seeing them for the first time.

''Jimmy?'' Leon said softly as he began to approach him again.

Leon's voice appeared to distract Jimmy from his hands. He turned to face Leon and stared at him for a while, almost child like. He then walked towards him. His movements were jagged and awkward - almost like those of a marionette. Suddenly he leapt, grabbing Leon's shoulders and pinning him to the ground. With a strong swipe of his arm, he knocked Leon's gun out of his hand and grabbed his throat. He began to squeeze. Leon grabbed Jimmy's wrists, trying to dislodge them from his throat, but he was not strong enough. He was choking, he could barely breathe. Black dots appeared before his eyes as his vision began to fail. He tried to push the man off of him, but he was forced back down to the ground, hard. In one last ditch attempt to free himself, he thrust his head forward. His head made contact with his assailant's face. The grip around his throat was loosened, and using all his remaining strength, Leon bent his legs and kicked Jimmy away. He sat up, coughing, filling his lungs with air as he massaged his throat. He scanned the floor for his gun which, fortunately, had fallen only a few metres to his left. He rolled, grabbed the weapon, and aimed it at his former colleague.

''Don't make me!'' he screamed between heavy breaths.

Jimmy had also regained his composure now, and had pushed himself back to his feet. As he turned to face Leon, Leon noted the large open wound on his face that was gushing blood. He must have been alive, he wouldn't bleed if he were a….

''Stop!''

Jimmy's muscles visibly tightened. He readied himself to attack Leon again. He sprung. But he seemed to freeze mid-leap, and his body fell to the ground with blood oozing from a small hole in between his eyes. Leon had shot him.

Leon pushed himself to his feet and he went to investigate the body. Blank eyes stared back at him. He looked closer and noted that there were small red flecks in the dead man's irises.

''I'm sorry.'' Leon said as he gently closed Jimmy's eyes.

He stood up and walked back towards Elisabeth's office. The door was locked, so he knocked.

''It's me, Leon. Let me in.''

The door opened and Elisabeth's ashen face stared at him.

''I've found something Leon.'' she began, ''Something horrible.''

Before she could elaborate, the green light had been replaced by a red flashing light. Water poured from the fire extinguishers on the ceiling. There was the buzz of radio static followed by Claire's voice. She sounded anxious.

''Leon, Elisabeth. Call in.''

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

''This must be it.'' Chris examined the door, feeling the lock, handle and all around the frame. This was the only locked cell on sub-basement level three. The other cells were empty. ''It's cast iron, we can't pick this, we've got to blow it open.''

Claire nodded as she removed a small square package from her back pack and handed it to Chris. ''Explosive putty. Never leave home without it!'' she dead-panned.

Chris hurriedly placed the putty across the door lock and hinges. ''Okay, when this blows, we're probably going to attract attention so we have to get right out of here. Be ready.''

Claire nodded.

Chris and Claire quickly moved a few metres down the corridor and crouched in the corner of one of the empty cells.

''Fire in the hull!'' Chris shouted as he pressed the detonator.

There was a small explosion, followed by a deep thud as the heavy iron door was detached from its hinges and toppled to the floor. The smoke and dust cloud created by the explosion crawled down the corridor, making Chris and Claire cough in order to remove the foreign particles from their throats. Suddenly, the corridor was filled with the high-pitched wailing of a fire alarm. The lights went off, only to be replaced by the flashing red glow. A fine mist of water descended from the ceiling.

Chris got up first, and ran into the cell.

''Jill!''

Jill Valentine, Chris Redfield's oldest, closet friend, was lying motionless on a gurney situated in the middle of the room. Attached to her arm was a drip dispensing blue fluid into her vein. Her eyes were closed and her skin was damp and waxy. Chris ran across to her, and placed his hand on her wrist in search of a pulse.

''She's alive.'' He said, relieved. He gently shook her shoulder. There was no response.

''Jill. Jill, wake up. We've come to get you out.'' He whispered into her ear. Droplets of water fell from his now-wet hair onto Jill's face.

Claire went immediately to investigate the bag of blue fluid that was being fed intravenously to Jill. She read the label aloud. ''AV-125. What's that?''

''I don't know, but we've got to get that out of her.'' He went to remove the drip, but Claire quickly grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

''Wait. We don't know what that stuff is…..or what it's done to her.''

''Exactly, so we've got to get it out of her now!' he said as he pulled his wrist from Claire's grip.

''Pulling that out of her may cause more harm than good.''

''But we're running out of time!''

Claire tapped her radio. ''Leon, Elisabeth. Call in.''

It was Leon who replied. ''We hear you. It looks like the party's not a surprise anymore.''

''We've found Jill.''

''Oh my God. Is she okay?''

''She's attached to a drip, but we don't know what it is. Elisabeth, can you tell me what AV-125 is? It's a bright blue fluid.''

''It's an anti-virus.'' Elisabeth said. ''But I don't know what for. They wouldn't have given her an anti-virus unless she was infected.''

Chris and Claire looked at each other with a knowing realisation that this might not be Jill anymore. A chill down Chris's spine replaced the temporary elation of finding his friend.

''Don't pull out the drip yet.'' Elisabeth said. ''I need to find Jill's records and find out exactly what the anti-virus was for. I suggest that you make your way to the rendezvous point and I'll meet you there. I need five minutes.''

''Five minutes.'' Chris said as he looked at Jill. ''Leon, keep her out of trouble.'' He paused. ''I'm counting on you Elisabeth.''

''I'll see you in five Chris.'' she replied.

Chris pulled back the thin white sheet that was partially covering Jill. Lying unconscious and helpless on the gurney, she looked small and delicate, almost like a child - not the tough, intelligent soldier he knew she was. Claire removed the bag of blue fluid from the hook above the gurney as Chris gently scooped up Jill.

There were heavy footsteps in the corridor.

''I got it.'' Claire said as she patted Chris on the shoulder. With Jill in his arms, he was unable to do anything.

Claire pressed herself against the door frame. She removed a small compact mirror from her pocket and carefully angled it so that she could see down the corridor in the direction of their potential assailants. There were four soldiers - all dressed in black and holding submachine guns. They stopped about five metres from the door, pressing themselves to the walls. Claire memorised the position of each of the soldiers and put the mirror compact back in her pocket. She removed a smoke grenade from her utility belt and threw it down the corridor. As the grenade exploded, a plume of smoke engulfed the guards and they began to blindly fire their weapons in Claire's direction. Taking both pistols in her hands, she rolled forwards and fired four shots. The machine gun fire ceased. As the smoke began to clear, the bodies of the four guards became visible slumped against the wall and on the floor. A tiny red mark on their foreheads was the only evidence on their bodies of an attack.

''Clear.'' She said as she lowered her pistols, certain that the threat was neutralised.

Chris walked out of the cell, still carrying an inert Jill in his arms. He carefully stepped across the dead bodies slumped in the corridor. One of the soldiers had fallen on his back, and he was staring at the ceiling. Chris looked at the dead man's face. It was pale and emotionless, but what struck Chris was the colour of his eyes - they were red.

''Look at his eyes.'' He said to Claire.

She looked down. ''It's just like Carlos described. Weird.'' she shuddered.

''Let's get out of here.''

They made their way back to the elevator. Claire pressed the call button. She didn't understand why the elevator had returned to the surface levels. She turned and looked back down the corridor in the direction of Jill's old cell, tapping her foot impatiently. Then something caught her eye. She thought she saw one of the soldier's hands twitch. She stared hard, unsure if it had just happened, or it was a trick of the flashing red light. Then another - the guard slumped against the wall began to stir, his head flopped forward, his arms awkwardly feeling the wall at his back. Then the soldier lying on his back with the red eyes slowly reached upwards with his left arm.

''Chris….''

''What?''

''They're moving.''

''What? That's impossible!'' Chris turned around slowly.

''They're moving!'' she repeated, this time with more urgency.

Again, Claire took out her pistols and slowly began to walk back down the corridor. She came first to the soldier with red eyes who was reaching upward. She looked down into his face. For a moment he looked confused - like he had just been woken abruptly from a deep sleep. Then his eyes focussed on her and he seemed to snap awake. He grabbed her ankle and pulled. Claire hit the floor hard, dropping her weapons and wincing as a sharp pain shot up her back. The red-eyed soldier then flipped onto his front and leapt towards her, grinning insanely. She kicked him away. He rolled onto his side and crashed against the wall. Claire reached for her pistols as the soldier charged again. She shot him in both legs. The soldier screeched in pain and collapsed on the floor. He then proceeded to pull himself along the floor in Claire's direction. She fired again, shooting him in the head. He stopped moving, but it seemed like the shots had awoken the others and they began to push themselves to their feet.

''Chris…'' she screamed, her voice wavering.

''I know!''

''The elevator….how long?'' she asked impatiently.

''Not long.'' He replied.

The elevator was two floors above them. Chris gently rearranged the way he was holding Jill, freeing his right hand that he used to repeatedly press the call button in the desperate hope that it would increase the speed of the elevator's descent. Claire was walking slowly backwards in Chris's direction, firing intermittently at the soldiers who were now standing and walking awkwardly towards her. She then noticed that they all had red eyes.

There was a brief ringing sound as the elevator doors opened.

''Claire, come on!''

They both got into the elevator and pressed their bodies against the back wall. The soldiers suddenly realised that their quarry was about to escape and they began to pursue them with renewed vigour. Clare repeatedly shot them in the head - but now it seemed that they had become impervious to the effect of the bullets as they merely rocked backwards when hit. She could have been mistaken, but they seemed to sense her frustration. As the doors closed, they smiled at her.

Chris tapped his radio.

''Carlos! Emergency evac - we need you at the rendezvous point in three minutes.''

''Got you covered Chris.'' came the immediate response.

Chris gently placed Jill on the floor, supporting her head and upper body in his arms. He lightly brushed away stray strands of hair that had stuck to her damp face. There was no movement, no sign of life other than the subtle contraction of her chest as she breathed.

''That was _creepy_.'' Claire said as she reloaded her pistols. ''Did you see the way those things were _grinning_?'' She realised Chris wasn't listening. She knelt down beside him. ''Is she okay?''

''She's alive.'' he said solemnly.

Chris tenderly brushed Jill's cheek. She was cold. Slowly, he guided his hand up towards her eyes. He took a deep breath and gently pushed up her eyelids. He flinched and quickly withdrew his hand. Her eyes were pink.

''Oh no.'' he whispered.


	7. Chapter 7 Wait and bleed

Disclaimer: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters, I am just a fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. I know it's a bit derivative, but any constructive comments appreciated!!!

**Chapter 7 Wait and bleed**

Carlos sighed heavily as Chris, Claire, Leon and Elisabeth hastily dismounted the helicopter ramp and disappeared into the darkness of the forest. He felt slighted that Chris didn't want him to take a more active role in the mission. In Carlos's mind, sitting in a helicopter nearly a mile away from all the action was not his job. In some ways, it was humiliating. Carlos was a man of action, not a communications officer. He rubbed his ankle and winced. Despite the treatment he had received from Rebecca, he was still in a little pain from his ordeal a couple of nights ago and he couldn't run. Still, this was an important mission. This mission wasn't about collecting evidence, getting the bad guys or playing the hero, this mission was about retrieving one of their own. All of the S.T.A.R.S had received specialist training in one form or other - be it medical, munitions, espionage, reconnaissance or even wetworks, but they all placed the safety and well-being of their own first. They had all seen too much death in their short lives - _every_ life was precious now.

Carlos was sitting at a communications console situated to the rear of the helicopter passenger compartment. On one of the four screens on the panel in front of him was a three dimensional map of the facility and the surrounding area. On the map, the current positions of Chris, Claire, Leon and Elisabeth were marked by small red dots. It was standard S.T.A.R.S procedure for operatives to be implanted with personal tracking devices. If it wasn't for his own tracking device, Claire probably wouldn't have found him the other day on the road. At best, he might still have still been running from the soldiers who had killed James McGarver, the S.T.A.R.S undercover operative who had sacrificed himself in order to infiltrate the facility. At worst, he could have been dead. He shuddered at the thought. The tracking devices were linked to the S.T.A.R.S' own satellite. Carlos always thought it was ironic that they used an ex-Umbrella satellite that Jill had sabotaged on a mission to an Umbrella facility in Siberia nearly five years previous.

Carlos switched through the facility security camera images. He had only been able to gain access to the facility's security server with Elisabeth's help as a lot of the data on the disc retrieved by James McGarver was corrupted. For a research scientist, Elisabeth seemed to have inappropriate knowledge of the computer and security system. Carlos began to wonder exactly what she _couldn't_ do. He scanned the main entrance. Empty. There was a security guard post with two metal detectors that led into the first maze of corridors and offices. Apart from the black-clad figures of his S.T.A.R.S team mates that he had just seen climb up and disappear into an air duct, there was no one. He then scanned the images of what appeared to be the laboratories. A number of well-equipped, glass-walled labs were arranged along a central corridor that led to another office complex. These offices were slightly larger and grander than the ones near the main entrance, thus he deduced they would have been for more senior members of staff. These offices and labs were empty too. Elisabeth had led them to believe that getting into this facility would be like getting into Fort Knox. Either she was lying, or there was something else going on.

He continually flicked through the security camera images, looking for evidence of life. Empty. The whole facility was empty. Maybe they were too late. Again. He saw four black-clad figures drop from an air duct that ran the length of a long white corridor. They were making good progress. Chris was leading from the front as always. Chris the pointman, Chris the hero. He and Chris got on well - in the field and personally, but Carlos always sensed a little resentment from him with regards to his relationship with Jill Valentine. Their relationship had never been anything more than friendship, but it was a special kind of friendship. They had faced the Nemesis bioweapon in Raccoon City all those years ago, and he knew he owed her his life. He considered Jill to be a dear friend, and just like Chris, he was heartbroken over her disappearance six months ago. But unlike Chris, he had reconciled himself with the loss. Despite the pain, he had convinced himself that she was dead, and he had grieved. Numerous dark elements had used Jill's disappearance to their advantage, setting traps to eliminate key S.T.A.R.S members through the pretence of sightings and negotiations. Chris pursued every lead religiously, often at great risk to himself and others. Now it seemed Jill _was_ alive and Chris's faith was going to be rewarded. Would he be punished for his lack of faith?

''Carlos, do you still have our position?'' It was Chris.

''Bright and clear.'' Carlos replied as he glanced at the four red dots on the map. ''The main laboratory complex is just behind you. According to Elisabeth, the elevator to the sub-basements should be at the far end of the corridor.''

Carlos watched as Leon and Elisabeth moved in the direction of the laboratories, progressing through a set of sliding doors. Chris and Claire then moved to the other end of the corridor and disappeared into an elevator where there were no security cameras.

''God speed, Chris.'' Carlos murmured to himself.

On the screen, Carlos watched Leon and Elisabeth proceed straight through the laboratories and into an office. Elisabeth sat down at the desk and began to type on the computer. He deduced this must have been her office, although it wasn't as decadent as he expected. It was simple, slightly unkempt, but it didn't seem to contain anything that had no purpose - there were papers and folders piled against the sides of the room but apart from a small framed picture on the wall, he couldn't see any ornaments or keepsakes. There were no personal items. She must have been a person consumed by her work - the kind of person valued by Umbrella and probably the organisation that ran this facility. But what, or more importantly _who,_ was this organisation? The fact that they saw fit to have cameras within the office of their head scientist demonstrated their paranoia, which, in Elisabeth's case, was well-founded. Was this how they found out about her impending betrayal? For someone so intelligent, how could she have been so naïve and got caught?

''Carlos, we're in the server. You should be receiving the data now. Confirm.'' Leon said over the radio.

''I got it Leon.'' Carlos responded as numbers, letters and images flashed before his eyes on one of the screens.

''Can you see anything on the internal security cameras? It's just too quiet here for my liking.''

Carlos paused. ''There's nothing. No lab workers, no security, nobody...wait a minute…''

A flicker of movement on one of the laboratory security cameras caught his eye.

''Leon, there's something moving in the labs.''

There was no response. He tapped his radio.

''Leon, Elisabeth, come in. There's something, _someone_ moving in the labs. Can you hear me? Please respond.'' There was a crackling noise and hushed voices - he couldn't make out what they were saying as there seemed to be some kind of interference blocking the radio signal. ''Talk to me God dammit!'' He slapped the screen in frustration.

Whatever it was in the lab had also caught Leon's attention. Suddenly the bright fluorescent lights of the labs and offices were replaced by the dull glow of emergency lights. Carlos watched as Leon said something to Elisabeth and left the office, moving slowly along the corridor towards the labs, his weapon drawn. Carlos typed on the keyboard, changing the images on the screen in front of him from the office area to the labs. He saw a fist push its way through a large glass pane of what appeared to be a holding cell. The fist was followed by a second fist, two arms, a head, shoulders and finally a body. The body - apparently of a man - pulled itself through the hole in the glass and fell to the floor, cut and bleeding profusely. It then began to pull itself forwards along the ground towards a lab bench.

Leon then came into view. Using the bench for support, the figure on the floor had dragged itself to its feet. Carlos increased the magnification and focussed on its face, which was just discernible on the low resolution black and white image.

''Jimmy!'' he said in disbelief.

Leon approached Jimmy, obviously trying to talk to him…_it_…..but he sprung, grabbing Leon by the throat and pinning him to the ground.

''Mierde!'' Carlos said, watching the screen helplessly as Jimmy's gnarled, bloodied hands tightened around Leon's neck. Even through the low resolution image, Carlos could see the life draining from his face. Suddenly, Leon head-butted his attacker and then kicked him away. He retrieved his gun, and within the blink of an eye, Jimmy was dead.

Carlos knew that this _thing_ may have looked liked Jimmy, and to Leon it may have sounded like Jimmy, but it wasn't him. It _couldn't_ be him. James McGarver was dead. He had seen him die, up in the mountains. He was stood next to him when he was shot by the soldier with red eyes. He remembered the terrible thud of his body as it hit the ground and exhaled for the last time. He remembered the red-eyed soldier firing more bullets into his unresponsive torso to ensure he was dead. A wave of anger passed over Carlos. How could they do this to him? Wasn't killing him enough? Now he was a shell, an abomination, a man with no soul.

Leon had returned to the office where Elisabeth was still sitting in front of her computer. Carlos couldn't be sure, but she seemed to have taken something from the wall - maybe it was a photograph - removed it from a frame, and put it in her pocket. Leon banged on the door - she must have locked it. She walked across to the door and opened it. Carlos's attention was then diverted by more movement back in the labs. Four figures, each dressed in black and carrying submachine guns, had entered the lab complex through a sliding door at the far end. They looked strangely familiar.

Suddenly the screens on the console in front of Carlos flickered and went blank. He had lost his connection to the server and security cameras.

''Mierde! Leon, come in!''

''We've got….we……Carlos - we're…….home…………rendezvous.'' Leon's words were quiet and largely obscured by cackling static. Carlos presumed they were heading for the rendezvous point.

''I'm on my way. Don't be too long Leon.'' he said, certain that Leon couldn't hear him.

Carlos then heard gunshots.

''Leon? Elisabeth?'' There was only silence.

Carlos exhaled loudly. So far, this mission had been unnervingly easy. It almost seemed like they were allowed to get this far. His thoughts were soon interrupted by Chris's voice.

''Carlos! Emergency evac - we need you at the rendezvous point in three minutes.''

''Got you Chris. See you in three.''

Carlos stood up and made his way to the front of the helicopter where a young S.T.A.R.S operative was sitting in the co-pilot's seat.

''Justin, it's time to pick up the kids.'' He said as he pressed buttons, flicked switches and closed the clasp on his safety belt. The helicopter's propellers began to revolve faster.

Justin nodded. He was a young looking man - perhaps early to mid twenties, with very short blonde hair and green eyes. He had been recruited into the S.T.A.R.S just under a year ago. Up until that point, he had been a member of the police department in the small mid-western county of Gainsborough. There had been an outbreak there and he was the only survivor from a town of five hundred people. He had lost his young wife and child. Like countless others, he had tried to expose the incident, but his story was discredited. The town was supposedly destroyed by an explosion at a fertiliser factory and all that was left was charred earth. Akin to many members of the S.T.A.R.S, Justin's youth belied a painful past and an uncertain future.

''It looks like they've found her Carlos.'' Justin said, staring straight ahead at the instrument panel.

''Yeah.'' He replied curtly. Until he saw her with his own eyes, he still couldn't let himself believe she was still alive.

The helicopter lifted up from the ground and they made their way towards the rendezvous point.

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''We need to get master samples of the virus and the anti-virus in order to help Jill - they're back in the lab.'' Elisabeth said hurriedly.

Leon and Elisabeth were stood at the threshold of her office. With some concern, she noted a fine splattering of blood across his vest.

''It's not mine.'' he said, noting her eyes staring at his chest. ''Let's go.'' He patted her on the shoulder.

They jogged back through the offices towards the labs. As the sliding door to the labs opened, there was a wave of machine gun fire. They both dived for cover behind some steel cabinets as the glass walls shattered all around them.

''Leon, I have to get in there.'' she shouted, pointing to one of the labs. ''Cover me.''

Leon nodded as he removed a flash grenade from his utility belt. He pulled out the pin and looked across at Elisabeth.

''Cover your eyes!'' he shouted as he threw the grenade in the general direction of the gunfire. There was a blinding flash followed by mumbled curses. The gunfire ceased. Leon got up to his knees and scanned the area for their assailants. He spotted four black figures in the distance, their arms outstretched and their hands awkwardly reaching out and feeling the remnants of glass wall and steel benches. They were temporarily blinded. Elisabeth stood up and ran forward, the glass crunching below her feet. She disappeared into the gloom.

Leon focussed on the nearest of the black figures and fired his weapon. The figure cursed and staggered, but he didn't fall. Leon fired again. The same response. He progressed into the next lab, slowly and deliberately, ensuring he kept in cover. There was more machine gun fire - the effects of the flash grenade had worn off and the onslaught resumed. One of the soldiers had been separated from the others. He fired shot after shot into the soldier's head and upper body, eventually emptying his weapon. Click. Click. Click. Although bleeding profusely, the solider barely flinched - he simply stood there, turned, and walked slowly towards Leon. He was grinning insanely, his bizarre red eyes flashing.

Leon reached into his utility belt for more ammunition as the soldier aimed his weapon at him. Elisabeth suddenly appeared behind the soldier. She wrapped her delicate hands around his neck and twisted sharply. There was a horrifying crunch as the soldier fell to the floor, his neck broken. Leon stared at her, temporarily dumbfounded.

''I've got them.'' she said, gesturing towards two metallic vials attached to her belt.

''I don't understand it.'' he said to Elisabeth as he re-loaded his weapon. ''The bullets are barely touching them! What are they?''

She looked down at the soldier whose neck she had just broken. He was beginning to stir. He wasn't dead. ''It's no good Leon - they're healing themselves. We have to run!''

Leon nodded. He could ask questions later. Getting the master samples out and helping Jill was their priority right now, and they couldn't do that if they didn't get out of this facility alive. He took another flash grenade from his belt.

''Last one.'' he said as he pulled the pin and threw it towards the other three soldiers.

There was another blinding flash followed by curses of frustration in the near distance. Leon and Elisabeth ran for the exit from the laboratory complex. As they neared the sliding door, Leon looked closely at one of soldiers who was blindly groping the stainless steel benches and cupboards. His body was riddled with what appeared to be gunshot wounds, each one oozing semi-congealed blood. There was also a small, perfect red circle on his forehead - this one had also survived a gunshot wound to the head. How was this possible?

Elisabeth ran ahead through the maze of white corridors. Leon could barely keep up with her. His initial opinion of her was right - she was in good condition for someone who supposedly spent their time looking down a microscope. And the way she broke that soldier's neck - her technique was flawless. Leon slowed and glanced behind. He couldn't see or hear anything, but he knew they were being followed.

They reached a locked door. Elisabeth's fingers shook as she pressed the code into the keypad set in the wall to the right of the door. There was a high pitched buzzing noise. She had typed in the wrong code.

Leon pressed his back to the wall and looked behind them. He still couldn't see anyone, but he could hear footsteps and heavy breathing. ''Hurry!'' he said.

She made a fist with her hand, trying to steady herself. She took a deep breath and re-typed the code. The door clicked open and they entered the room.

It was a large, windowless dining room filled with characterless metal tables and chairs, all neatly arranged in blocks of four.

Leon surveyed the room. He looked confused. ''Why is there a keypad for a dining room?''

''I never asked.'' Elisabeth responded.

They closed the door behind them and pushed a number of tables against it, creating a make-shift barricade. They knew it wasn't going to hold for very long, but it would give them a little time. Elisabeth prised open a small metallic box to the left of the door and tore at the exposed wires.

''Now they'll have to tear the door off its hinges.'' she said, almost smiling.

They ran through the dining area into the kitchen. There was no exit, not even a window. They were at a dead end.

''Dammit. There's supposed to be an exit here.'' She said angrily. ''I don't understand.''

Suddenly there was a loud thumping noise in the dining room behind them. The door began to vibrate.

''They're going to get through.'' she said, shaking her head.

Leon scanned the kitchen. His eyes rested upon a series of large, stainless steel gas ovens that were aligned along the wall.

''I've got an idea…'' he moved across to the ovens and, one by one, yanked them from their place against the walls, exposing the pipes. He unsheathed his knife and cut them, spewing explosive gas into the air.

''Get to the freezer. It's solid steel, it should protect us from the blast.'' He motioned to a heavy steel door that marked the entrance to a closet freezer at the back of the kitchen. He coughed as the gas filled his lungs.

Elisabeth turned to face the freezer. She immediately sensed something was wrong. The heavy steel door was slightly ajar, propped open by a shoe. Slowly she walked towards it, her heart rate increasing with every step, the fine hairs on the back of her neck and arms standing on end. She kept moving, almost involuntarily. She became aware of her heavy breathing, her chest pushing against the hard kevlar vest as it expanded with every inhalation of air. She could feel her hands shaking from the adrenaline that coursed through her body.

''Hurry!'' Leon shouted.

She stood in front of the freezer. She finally saw what was propping open the door - it wasn't just a shoe. It was a foot - a dismembered foot. Instead of a leg, there was a torn and tattered trouser leg, covered with bloody tissue. She pushed open the heavy door. Her eyes widened as she gagged.

''_Oh God!_ _Who would do this? Who would do this?_'' she cried as she turned to look for Leon. ''They're in here!''

''Who?''

''Everyone!'' she shook her head. ''Everyone's in here.''

Leon turned to look inside the freezer. Stacked inside were numerous bodies - mostly headless - some wearing the tattered remnants of white lab coats, others wearing suits or black uniforms. The floor was covered with a frozen mixture of congealed blood and viscera.

''Jesus Christ…..'' Leon held his hand up to his mouth as he retched. There must have been the remains of at least twenty people in there.

The barricaded door finally buckled and fell from its hinges. Four figures - hideous, twisted grinning - poured into the dining room.

''Just get in there!'' Leon shouted. He was holding a cigarette lighter; his thumb was poised, ready to ignite it as four twisted faces came closer. Next, Leon felt weightlessness and heat on his back as he was propelled through the air and all of the oxygen was sucked from his lungs. Then there was darkness.

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Chris and Claire had made it to the rendezvous point without further incident. As soon as they reached the clearing in the forest, Claire set off a flare that punctured the darkness with an incandescent emerald green. Claire could sense a million eyes - eyes of insects, birds and mammals, which were staring at them from outside the safety of the green glow.

Chris gently lay Jill down on the ground. She was still silent and unresponsive. The drip and its long blue coil was still attached to her arm. Every instinct Chris had told him to tear it out, it was poison, it was killing her. Or, even worse, it was _changing_ her.

''I'm not going to lose her Claire.'' he said in a monotone voice, not taking his eyes off Jill. ''We've been through so much, we have to finish this fight together.'' He paused, looking at Claire. ''I'm not going to let anyone else go.''

''Everything is going to be alright.'' Claire soothed, as she squeezed his shoulder while simultaneously scanning the air for Carlos and the helicopter.

She tapped her radio.

''Carlos, come in.''

There was a brief pause.

''Claire, we'll be one minute.'' Carlos' voice was difficult to hear over the noise of the helicopter blades. They were obviously airborne.

''That's good Carlos, but Leon and Elisabeth…..'' Claire was interrupted by the sound of an explosion that originated from the laboratory complex a few hundred metres behind them. A ball of fire tore into the night sky.

''Leon'' Claire whispered.

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Elisabeth's eyelids flickered and then opened slowly. She couldn't see anything at first as her vision was blighted by the thick, acrid smoke that had consumed the kitchen and dining area. The smoke made her throat and lungs burn. She suddenly felt heat on her leg, and with considerable effort, she leaned upwards to investigate. To her horror, her left trouser leg was burning. This seemed to bring her to her senses as she jumped up and began to smack her leg furiously, patting out the flames. She rolled up her trouser leg to inspect the damage. It was red and sore and large blisters were starting to form.

Leon. Where was Leon? She began to scan the debris of what used to be the staff kitchen and dining area. The floor was covered with splintered cutlery, shattered glass and overturned furniture that acted as fuel for a few small fires that lingered.

''Leon? Leon? Where are you?'' she shouted. There was no response. She progressed into what remained of the dining room. She recoiled as she saw them - the charred bodies of the four soldiers who had pursued them through the labs, entangled within the wreckage. She inspected one of them closely. Instead of a face was an indistinguishable mesh of blackened, peeling skin and exposed bloody muscle. The hands and fingers, held up in front of the face in a desperate attempt to shield it from the fire ball, were twisted and knotted. Elisabeth reached forward to touch one of the hands and it disintegrated, leaving a small mound of black dust on the floor.

She resumed her search for Leon, and began to overturn the wrecked tables and chairs.

''Leon! Answer me God damn you!'' she shouted, throwing the furniture across the room in frustration.

''Arggh!'' she looked down at her hand - she had cut it on something sharp. She reached into her utility belt for a small bandage, and tied it around the cut. The white bandage was instantly stained scarlet by her blood. She stood still and scanned the room. Then she noticed a slight indentation in the wall. It was a regular square shape thus couldn't have been made by the explosion. She went to investigate, gently tracing the shape on the wall with her hands. She pushed gently and the smoked-stained plaster fell away revealing a door. The door was very different to others in the facility in that it was old and composed of wood with a brass handle and lock. It must be part of the old hospital building. She reached out and turned the knob. Locked. She felt the wood - it was damp, old. She took a step back, lifted her right leg and kicked it open. The door lock held firm, but the old rotten wood fell apart to reveal a dark room.

Elisabeth entered the room. She coughed as the damp, musty spore-ridden air hit her lungs. She felt for a light switch on the wall behind the door. The wall was also damp. Eventually she found a switch and flicked it, bathing the room in a feint yellow glow.

The room was small - probably only measuring about ten metres across, although it was filled with wooden shelving units upon which was crammed boxes of paper files, all arranged alphabetically. She looked suddenly at the floor. She noted her footprints in the thick layer of dust that had enveloped the carefully laid wooden tiles. It was probable that no one had been in this room for years. She walked along one of the shelves and read the labels on the boxes. They were names. She felt herself drawn to the boxes crammed in the section for the letter B. She scanned the names on the boxes - she read her name. It could just be a coincidence she reasoned; she had a fairly common name. She reached for the file, blowing away the dust. The file was stamped with 'Confidential' in bold red letters. Written on the front of the file were a name, date and place of birth - Elisabeth Badley, 4th March 1978, Raccoon City. She suddenly felt sick - this was too much of a coincidence. Her fingers played with the corners of the file that were dog-eared and worn.

She was just about to open the file when her attention was diverted suddenly by the sound of coughing in the dining room behind her. She crammed the folder underneath her kevlar vest. Backing out of the room, she switched off the light. She scanned the room again - she could hear breathing. It was difficult to see as the explosion had taken out the emergency electricity and the only light was an eerie, yellow-orange glow emitted by the flames. She froze as she saw a black boot in the corner of the room under a pile of rubble and broken furniture. She ran across to the boot and began tearing at the debris, exposing the body beneath.

''Leon!!'' she cried, as she cleared the area around him. His fatigues, originally black, were grey with dust and torn in a number of places. She quickly examined his body. There were no obvious signs of injury except for a small patch of his blonde hair that was now stained red and matted with blood.

He groaned, but then pushed himself upright to his knees. Gently, Elisabeth guided him to the wall. He leant against the wall and he slunk down on the floor, looking at her.

''Are you okay?'' he asked, noticing the burn on her leg.

''Never mind me, what about you?'' she asked, concerned.

His blue eyes were glassy and his face was drained of all colour. ''I've felt better. We've got to keep moving….''

Leon then tried to push himself up but he suddenly became dizzy, and he collapsed back down onto the floor.

''I think I need a minute….'' he said

She placed both of her hands behind his head and looked into his eyes. ''Focus on me.'' she said firmly. Leon did as requested.

''I want you to follow my finger.'' She said as she moved one hand away from his head, extended her index finger and moved her hand left and right. Again, Leon did as asked.

''You're concussed.'' She then examined the wound on his head. ''It looks like this wound is only superficial though, you'll be fine.''

Before Elisabeth had time to object, Leon had pushed himself to his feet. His eyes focussed on the charred bodies entangled in the wreckage around him. He looked quizzically at Elisabeth.

''They're dead.'' She said, answering the question she knew Leon was about to ask. ''I think fire is the only way to kill them. It destroys the cells.''

Leon nodded. ''We've got to get to the rendezvous point.'' He said, about to walk back towards the kitchen.

''No.'' she said hurriedly, turning Leon away from the old room that had revealed itself in the explosion. ''There's no way out that way. We have to go back the way we came in.''

''Okay.'' He said softly as he followed her back out of the dining room, still a little dazed.

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''Cover your face!'' Chris shouted to Claire over the roar of the helicopter blades as it slowly descended into the forest clearing.

Claire shielded her face with her arms from the wind-blown debris that filled the air. Chris shielded Jill with his body. He winced as dirt, small pebbles and pieces of torn vegetation collided with his exposed face, making his eyes water. As it landed, the helicopter blades began to rotate progressively slower until they stopped. The ear-splitting roar of the rotating blades was replaced by a gentle, rhythmic hum of the engines as they were put on standby. The helicopter rear doors slid open and a metallic ramp descended to the ground, accompanied by the drone of a motor.

Carlos appeared at the open doors. He stood there for a moment, almost paralysed as he stared straight at Jill, his eyes widened in a mixture of shock and relief. He ran down the ramp towards Chris and moved to scoop up Jill from the ground. Chris grabbed his wrist.

''I've got her.'' he said brusquely.

''Okay.'' Carlos relented, holding up his hands. Claire looked at Carlos almost apologetically.

Chris stood up with Jill in his arms. He walked up the ramp and disappeared into the dark interior of the helicopter.

''Have you heard from Leon?'' Claire asked Carlos.

''Leon and Elisabeth were attacked in the labs and I lost contact - there was some kind of interference. I saw the explosion…..''

Claire's face fell, her bottom lip trembled.

''I'm sure they made it out of there…..'' Carlos said, almost trying to convince himself. ''Leon's got himself out of much worse situations than this.''

''I know Carlos, but that doesn't stop me….'' She was interrupted by a rustling sound in the bushes behind her. They both drew their handguns and pointed it towards the source of the noise.

Two figures leapt out of the undergrowth.

''Don't shoot!'' one of them screamed, holding up his arms.

''Leon!'' Claire looked at Leon with concern. She noticed his bloodied head and pale skin.

''Hey, it looks worse than it is, honest.'' he said, smiling, trying to put her mind at ease.

Leon moved to give Claire a hug when the air was filled with the sound of gunshots.

''Quick, let's go!'' Carlos shouted, walking backwards up the ramp into the helicopter, gesturing for the others to follow him. He fired his weapon into the darkness - other than the sporadic sparks released by their weapons when they fired, he was unable to see the location of their attackers.

Claire, Leon and Elisabeth ran up the ramp behind Carlos into the passenger compartment of the helicopter. No sooner had they entered, the ramp withdrew and the helicopter blades began to rotate faster. However, the din of the rotating blades was unable to drown out the sound of bullets ricocheting off the armoured shell of the helicopter. Carlos made his way into the cockpit.

''We've got to go, right now.'' he said to Justin as he fastened his safety belt. ''If they get the rotors…''

Justin nodded. He gripped the control stick and the helicopter slowly ascended.

''Let's go home.'' Carlos said, sinking into his chair.


	8. Chapter 8 Invisible wounds

Disclaimer: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters, I am just a fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. This chapter has run away with itself a little bit and has turned out longer than I would have liked, but I hope it makes sense and you enjoy it. As always, any constructive comments appreciated!!!

**Chapter 8 Invisible wounds**

The helicopter lurched, jerking the passengers awkwardly from side to side.

''Carlos! What's going on!'' Chris shouted towards the cockpit, his voice barely audible. Bullets could still be heard ricocheting off the helicopter's external armour plating. Fortunately, none of them seemed to hit their intended target - the rotors - and they were quickly flying out of range.

''Sorry about that.'' Carlos shouted back. ''I'm just trying to get us out of here as quickly as possible.''

Claire was attending to the small wound on Leon's head, apparently oblivious to the wayward movement of the helicopter. He winced as she dripped iodine on the gash.

''When I saw that explosion, I thought we'd lost you.'' she said, avoiding eye contact and pressing the dressing down securely on his forehead. ''What happened back there?''

''That's what happens when you let a guy in the kitchen. Ouch!'' he jerked away from Claire as she tore the plaster away from his head, annoyed at his flippant remark.

''That's not funny Leon. Seriously.'' she scolded as she reapplied the dressing.

''We had some company, and it seemed to be the only way to get rid of them.'' Leon said, suddenly serious.

''So who were the guys firing at the helicopter? Chris and I didn't see anyone on the way to the rendezvous point.''

Leon shrugged. ''We came across them on the way out of the facility. They were hiding in the tree line, some sort of ambush. We managed to out run them though.''

He then turned to look at Elisabeth. Elisabeth was sitting on one of the crudely padded benches that ran the length of the passenger compartment, grasping the canvas netting on the walls so hard that her fingers were white. Each time the helicopter lurched she felt nauseous, and she had to swallow hard to prevent herself from being sick. Leon noted how uncomfortable she looked. He still couldn't understand this woman. In his mind, he kept replaying the incident in the lab - the way that she effortlessly bypassed the security system and gained access to the server, the way that she sneaked up behind that soldier and broke his neck. The way she was able to run back through the forest and keep up with him, seemingly without too much effort. She was no ordinary scientist.

''You're still going to need a couple of stitches.'' Claire's voice broke his chain of thought.

''Thanks.'' Leon responded, pressing down the dressing on his head with his left hand.

''Okay, it looks like we're in the clear. We should be back at HQ within an hour.'' Carlos shouted over his shoulder.

The helicopter steadied, and Elisabeth tentatively released her grip on the canvas netting. She knelt down next to Jill who was lying on a canvas stretcher tied to the metallic grille floor. She felt for Jill's pulse and looked at her eyes, gently pushing back her eyelids. She turned to look at Chris.

''She's infected.'' Chris said without looking up.

''She was…'' Elisabeth began.

''She _was?_'' his head snapped up. ''What do you mean?''

' Elisabeth seemed puzzled. 'She's been given the antivirus. I don't understand why, but it looks like they wanted to cure her. See - look at her eyes.''

Chris did as instructed and gasped. Less than thirty minutes ago, her eyes had been pink. Now they were closer to their natural blue-grey colour with pink speckles disseminated throughout the irises.

''What's happening to her?''

Elisabeth looked at the drip and sac of blue fluid. ''The antivirus is working, it's inhibiting the virus.''

''How do you know?''

''Her eyes. The red or pink colouration of the iris reflects a build-up of proteins that are by-products of DNA replication. There probably isn't enough of the antivirus here to destroy it though. We need more.''

''Can you make some more?'' Chris asked.

''Yes - I can synthesise some more with this….'' she pointed to one of the metallic vials attached to her belt. ''But you've got to give me access to your labs.''

''You can have anything you need.'' he replied swiftly. Chris's eyes darkened and almost seemed to disappear into the recesses of their sockets. ''Have you tested the antivirus?''

''Yes. Well, not really.'' she began. ''_I_ never tested it on a human subject.''

Chris shook his head, rubbing his forehead with his hand. Claire looked at Leon; her worry was reflected in his face.

''I have to be honest and say it worked in less than fifty percent of subjects. Primates, mainly. It seems that in most cases, the effects of the Lazarus gene are irreversible, but Jill's responding and that's a good sign.'' She tried to sound enthusiastic.

''The Lazarus gene?''

''I designed it - _my virus_ - it inserts itself into the host's DNA modifies the genome…''

''…and promotes rapid replication and enhanced cell regeneration. Yeah, I've heard this before. '' Chris replied. ''But you also said it was unstable.''

''Yes. Once the gene becomes active, it's not always able to regulate itself.''

''So it leads to mutation.''

''Eventually. As well as mental deterioration.''

''In what way?''

''Early on, recipients of the virus showed enhanced mental capabilities, increased awareness, reflexes, even strength.…you name it. But over time, many subjects showed an increasing lack of behavioural control and they descended into psychosis. The psychosis increased each time the gene was activated.''

''You mean every time someone gets hurt and heals themselves, they go crazy?'' Leon asked.

''In simple terms, that _could_ happen, yes.''

''So those soldiers we encountered back there - they were infected by this virus, it had altered their genetic make-up. That's why this was useless.'' Leon held up his handgun and tossed it onto the floor. ''Great.''

''They're nearly impossible to kill.'' Claire interrupted. ''I shot them in the head. They got back up. If I didn't know any better, they seemed to find it _amusing_.'' Claire added, shivering at the thought.

''They _can_ be killed.'' Elisabeth said. ''You have to burn them. Destroy the cells.''

''What was _really _going on back there? Where was everybody?'' Chris looked straight into Elisabeth's eyes. ''This was supposed to be a fully functioning research facility, but it seemed to be lacking staff.''

''We found the staff.'' Elisabeth said quietly.

''Where? What were they doing?''

She just looked at him blankly. ''They were…they were…'' she stuttered, seemingly unable to put together the right words.

''They were dead, Chris.'' Leon interjected. '' All of them.''

''How?''

''It looked like an execution. They must have been gathered in the kitchen and…'' Leon felt nauseous as his thoughts were directed back towards the torn and twisted corpses that were stacked like a macabre sculpture in the freezer. ''Someone, _something,_ took a lot of pleasure out of killing those people.''

''A new bio-organic weapon?'' Claire asked, her eyes widening.

''I don't think so.'' Leon shook his head. ''Certainly not like the ones we've seen before. They've always been mindless, indiscriminate killers - ferocious but with no evidence of motive or intelligence. These people were rounded up like cattle, taken to that freezer and then slaughtered. The only incident I've heard of that can be compared to this is….''

''Mexico.'' Chris said solemnly. He looked down and breathed in heavily. He was taken back momentarily to the small Mexican border town in 2002. He'd gone there on a rescue mission to find an abducted diplomat, but what he and his team found would haunt them forever. He remembered walking along the dusty main street, through the square, and towards the ramshackle church with the faded, peeling white paint. The town was littered with corpses - most decapitated - all of them virtually enveloped by a moving blanket of black flies. There was no sign of life in the town except for the punctuated ringing of the church bell. Chris remembered walking along the uneven path towards the church, small clouds of dust appearing with every footstep. He remembered standing at the church doors, breathing heavily, his chest filled with an escapable sense of dread. The doors were held fast by a thick metal chain that he had to shoot to break. When he finally pushed the doors open with his gun, he had heaved and retreated, vomiting as he leaned against the outer wall of the church for support. The stench of putrid, rotting flesh was imprinted on his clothes; the image of at least a hundred rotting, desecrated corpses stacked in the middle of the church was burned into his eyes.

''What about those soldiers who chased us? They were definitely not human, not anymore - could they have done it? Could they have killed those people?'' Claire asked, glancing at Chris and then Elisabeth. She knew from the look on his face that he was thinking about the Mexico incident.

Chris also looked at Elisabeth. ''Could they?'' he demanded.

She shrugged her shoulders. ''It's possible.''

''How many of them are there?''

''How many what?''

Chris clenched his fists in frustration. Why wouldn't she give him a straight answer?

''Test subjects, super soldiers, whatever you want to call them!''

''They moved into Phase Two six months ago.''

''Phase Two?''

''Phase One was research and experimentation. I was in charge of that. Phase Two was the application and deployment. _I told them it wasn't ready_.'' She closed her eyes and looked down.

''Six months.'' Chris said quietly shaking his head. He sat down on the grille floor, his back supported against the cold metal wall of the passenger compartment. ''There could be hundreds of them.''

Chris turned his attention back to Jill. He had never seen her look so pale or lifeless. What if the antivirus _didn't_ work? Would she go mad like those soldiers? Would he have to kill her? For now, as much as he hated it, he knew that Jill's life was not in his hands.

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They had been in the air for a little over an hour when they started their descent. They had made it back to the S.T.A.R.S headquarters without further incident, although the tension in the passenger compartment of the helicopter was palpable.

Rebecca Chambers, accompanied by two medics with a metal gurney, was standing outside the old boarding school building, now the S.T.A.R.S headquarters, watching the helicopter descend. It was pitch black outside, the only visible light was emitted from the helicopter itself and a few landing lights arranged as a vague circle on what was previously a grass hockey pitch. Rebecca's reddish brown hair became dishevelled from the up-drafts caused by the helicopter as it finally landed. She made no effort to tidy it - all of her attention was focussed on the passenger door. She looked anxious as she unconsciously rubbed her hands together and swallowed hard.

The metal ramp descended from the helicopter and the passenger door slid open. Chris was the first to emerge. He immediately saw Rebecca and the two medics standing a few metres in front of him. He walked down the ramp with Jill held firmly in his arms. He then gently placed her on the waiting gurney. Rebecca examined her and nodded to the medics who promptly proceeded to push Jill towards the medical wing, the entrance of which was situated a few metres away from the make-shift helipad.

''Chris, General Keller called. He wanted you to contact him as soon as you returned.'' Rebecca seemed almost apologetic when she spoke, but Chris didn't seem to hear her words. His eyes followed Jill as she and the two medics disappeared into the building. Chris started to follow, but Rebecca put her hand on his shoulder. He stopped.

''Chris.'' She said gently. ''Let me help her, there's nothing more you can do for her right now. You have to talk to Keller.''

Chris turned his head to look at Rebecca. He then looked back towards the entrance.

''Chris.'' Rebecca repeated, more firmly this time. ''Let me do my job. Please.''

Chris relented. ''Okay, but when I'm done speaking to the general, I'm coming to the medical wing.''

''That's fine. I'll see you later.''

Chris turned and walked away across the lawn in a different direction.

''By the way,'' Rebecca shouted after him. ''He didn't sound too happy. Be nice, okay?''

Chris merely grunted as he disappeared into the darkness.

Carlos, Leon, Claire and Elisabeth then proceeded down the ramp.

''Anyone hurt?'' Rebecca enquired. She then saw Leon's bandaged head. ''What happened?''

''It's fine.'' Leon said, casually dismissing her with his hand. ''I banged my head. I was a bit groggy at first, but now I'm okay. Claire sorted me out.''

Claire blushed.

''Let me see.'' Rebecca demanded. Leon stood in front of her and she inspected the wound he'd sustained in the explosion earlier that evening. ''That's going to need a couple of stitches I'm afraid, but I'm sure you can handle it.'' She grinned. ''Just go to suture room, I'll send someone across in a minute to sort you out. I've got to go and look after Jill now.''

Leon nodded as Rebecca turned around and began to walk away in the direction the medics had taken Jill a few moments earlier. She turned sharply, mid-stride.

''You.'' She pointed to Elisabeth. ''Come with me. Tell me _everything_.''

Elisabeth glanced quickly at Leon and Claire before she followed Rebecca.

''I hope she was telling us the truth Leon.'' Claire half whispered as the two women disappeared into the building in front of them. They were suddenly bathed in light from the building's interior when the door opened. She could see Elisabeth talking animatedly while Rebecca nodded her head.

''We'll find out soon enough.'' he replied, as he put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed gently. ''I don't know about you, but I need to eat. How about I make us something?''

Claire wasn't particularly hungry right then, but she didn't want to be alone. There were just too many questions in her head at the moment, and she knew she wasn't going to be able to sleep. She needed to know if Jill really was going to make it, if she was still the friend and colleague she had known all these years.

''Sure, that sound's good.''

''Let's go then.'' Leon replied.

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Chris entered his office and sat down at his desk while simultaneously opening his laptop. After a few moments, a window opened on the screen with the moving image of a mature, distinguished looking man, wearing a black military uniform decorated with the ribbons of numerous medals. He was scowling, his furrowed grey brows almost touching in the middle.

''General Keller.'' Chris said, nodding.

''Chris, what were you thinking?'' He had a deep gravely voice that was the product of years of smoking. ''You risked the lives of your crew, you risked damage to military property…''

''I was retrieving a member of S.T.A.R.S….'' Chris began to raise his voice in a mixture of anger and incredulity.

''You weren't given authorisation for this mission. S.T.A.R.S isn't your personal army Chris.''

''You were the one that told me that you never leave a man behind.'' Chris said accusingly. ''Just before you had me discharged from the air force for doing just that!'' he added. He was unconsciously clenching his fists so tight that his nails dug into his palms. His face was burning red and he could feel his heart rate quickening. It was a long time ago, but some wrongs can't be forgotten.

''That's history Chris. The rules were different. You know I had no choice but to do that.''

''You put me in charge of this team General. You either _let_ me be in charge and do things my way or….''

''Or what exactly?'' General Keller's eyes narrowed, but then the expression on his face softened. ''Look, I understand that Jill Valentine is a close friend of yours, but there are greater things at steak here. _You cannot risk exposing yourselves_. The greatest weapon we have is anonymity.''

''I know sir.'' Chris said through clenched teeth.

''If the senate find out where a huge chunk of the defence budget is going, we'll be cut off, shut down, finished. Then there'll be no one strong enough to fight these people.''

''You haven't asked how Jill is. Sir.''

''No, I haven't. And it's not because I don't care, but you know as well as I do that she wouldn't have wanted you to take the risks you've been taking recently.'' He sighed heavily. ''I just hope it was worth it.''

''We managed to retrieve data from the facility's server. It should provide plenty of evidence for you get a court order to search the facility and…''

''It's too late Chris.''

''What do you mean?''

''It's gone.''

''Gone?''

''Destroyed in some kind of gas explosion about twenty minutes ago. There's going to be nothing left. I'm afraid the data you have is all but worthless. We can't link it to the facility.''

Chris sat back in his chair and covered his face with his hands. They had covered their tracks. Again. Another failed mission. No, he told himself, this wasn't a failure. He had got Jill back. He felt that it was his failure on that fateful mission six months ago that had allowed her to be captured. It was his fault that she was lying in the hospital wing right now. Everyone around him seemed to get hurt. Maybe he would be better working alone after all….

General Keller interrupted Chris from his stupor.

''I understand why you did what you did Chris, but it mustn't happen again, not without my authorisation. ''

''You know I can't promise you that General.''

''I know. I know you better than you know yourself. I want you to go through the data you retrieved and see if you can find anything useful. I'm looking for names. We need to find the main players, and we need to catch them in the act. I've suspected for a long time that members of the senate have things to hide. I need to know who they are.''

''Yes sir.''

''One more thing.''

''Yes General?''

''Get some sleep. You look awful. People make mistakes when they're tired.''

''Will do sir.''

The screen went blank and Chris closed the laptop. He felt so tired - physically _and_ emotionally - and he fought to keep his eyes open. He stood up from behind his desk and walked across his spartan office towards the door. Reaching for the door handle, he glanced at the picture of his old S.T.A.R.S comrades on the wall. He knew he had to get some sleep, but there were things he had to do first.

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Chris walked stridently down the corridors towards the medical wing, his head bowed in deep thought. He felt angry about his conversation with General Keller. Keller didn't seem to understand the bond that the S.T.A.R.S had developed. They were a team first, an individual second. Preservation of the team, and its members, was paramount.

The general was their unofficial link to the government. It was he who had approached Chris a few years earlier with the proposition of re-establishing an elite team to combat the unique threat imposed by Umbrella and several comparable organisations that were beginning to emerge. Albert Wesker, once Chris's superior officer and now his nemesis, had gone to ground within one of these organisations. Prior to Chris's re-introduction with Keller, he had been working for a secret government organisation that specialised in hostage rescue. Although they had a chequered history, Keller understood that not only did Chris posses the physical and mental aptitude to select and lead a new team, but he also had the experience. Chris had lived through the horror.

The only way that Keller could convince Chris to assemble and lead a team was to give him near total autonomy. Chris knew who he wanted on the team straight away - starting with Jill, his closest friend and colleague. He personally selected every member of the team; the lives of every single of them had been affected by Umbrella in some way. Most of them had lost friends or family, every one of them now resolute in their commitment to the downfall of Umbrella and any organisation that followed in Umbrella's wake.

Chris passed several S.T.A.R.S members on his way to the medical wing. Some of them were on patrol, wearing the standard black uniform; others were off duty and wearing their civilian clothes. All of them nodded politely in his direction as he passed. The lights were dimmed and the corridors, normally brilliant white during daylight hours, were grey and enveloped by shadow.

There were two armed guards stationed at the entrance to the medical wing. They stood upright when they noticed Chris approaching from the far end of the corridor.

''Don't let anyone in without Class 1 level clearance.'' Chris said to one of the guards as he pushed open the entrance. ''No exceptions.'' He added over his shoulder.

''Yes sir.'' they replied in unison.

Chris walked along the main corridor towards a waiting room that was furnished with a number of chairs and a small pile of magazines spread messily on a knee-high coffee table. He had never been in there before, and he cringed when he saw the dated embossed flowery wallpaper that adorned the walls. Rebecca and Elisabeth were sat facing each other, in deep conversation. Chris cleared his throat in order to attract their attention.

''Chris.'' Rebecca looked up when he came into sight. ''Why don't we go and talk in my office.'' She stood up and placed her hand on his back, guiding him out of the waiting room and into a small examination room a few metres further along the corridor.

''So.'' he began. ''Tell me the worst.''

Rebecca smiled. ''I think she's going to be fine. Really.'' She tried to alleviate the look of disbelief on Chris's face. ''She's been heavily sedated. Likely side effects are going to disorientation, weakness, lethargy and maybe some memory loss.''

''But what about the infection?''

''I'm in the process of doing a complete DNA analysis, but I think the antivirus is working. There's no evidence of mutation. Everything's normal; brain-function, hearth, lungs - she's completely healthy. Perhaps she's even healthier than she was when she had her last check up.''

''Are you sure?''

''Absolutely. She should regain consciousness within a day or two, maybe even earlier.''

Chris leaned against the wall and let out a huge sigh of relief. He had expected the worse, despite what Elisabeth had said in the helicopter. Still, he couldn't understand why the group that had abducted Jill had chosen to infect her and then cure her.

''Do you trust her?'' he said, looking up at Rebecca. ''Elisabeth. Has she told you everything?''

''I believe everything she has told me with regards to the virus is true. It's pretty amazing what she's managed to achieve when you think about it.''

''What?'' Chris's eyes widened. He forgot sometimes that although a competent soldier, Rebecca's real strength's lay with medicine and the sciences. Her near-genius intellect sometimes unnerved him.

''Don't get me wrong Chris, what they've done to Jill is inexcusable. But just imagine the implications! If this was developed properly - legitimately - we could probably cure most disease in the next twenty years.''

''Yeah - or we could have a population of psychos!''

''Yes.'' she said sadly. ''Which is why we have to find out who is behind this, fast. The virus and antivirus can be synthesised quickly. If they went into wholesale production six months ago, there's no telling how many people may be infected by now.''

''That's what worries me Rebecca. There could already be an army out there.''

''Anyway, there's nothing we can do about it right now.''

Chris nodded. ''I want to stay with Jill tonight. She needs to see a friendly face when she wakes up. She's going to be confused.''

''Sure, I'll take you to her. Follow me.''

She stood up and led Chris back out into the corridor and towards the room at the far end. She entered first. Jill was lying in a bed pushed against the far wall. It was dark, although Jill was bathed in a weak light emitted from a small table lamp sat on a cabinet situated to the left side of the bed. Chris walked across to the foot of the bed and looked at her. She seemed to look peaceful now. It was almost as if she knew she was out of danger.

''Okay, I'm off. Buzz me if you need anything.'' Rebecca smiled at Chris and made for the door. ''I know you're sick of me saying this, but you really should get some sleep. Take this chance while you can.''

He nodded. Chris noticed a small armchair in the corner of the room. He grimaced as he realised it was going to be his bed for the night. With some effort, he dragged it closer to the bed. It was heavy - it had a sturdy wooden frame and was upholstered with a light blue fabric.

Rebecca left the room and returned a few seconds later with a blanket and pillows tucked under her arms. She tossed them across to Chris.

''That chair's not very comfortable'' she sympathised. ''Maybe these will help.''

''Thanks Rebecca. Will you do me a favour?''

''Sure. What?''

''Can you tell Elisabeth she can have that spare room in the east wing if she wants it?''

''Are you sure?''

''She can't stay in the cells forever. I don't think she's going anywhere tonight, but make sure someone keeps an eye on her tracker, just in case. Let me know if she goes anywhere she shouldn't. And make sure she doesn't get access to the server.''

Rebecca nodded. ''Okay. Well, goodnight Chris. I'll see you in the morning.'' With that, she left the room.

Chris sat in the chair, arranging the pillow behind his neck. He shifted uncomfortably. He looked across at Jill and stared at her for a while, looking for evidence of _something_ different. Something_ wrong_. The colour was returning to her cheeks, and her lips were now pink. Her eyes were twitching rapidly - she must have been dreaming. He hoped it was a nice dream. He then reached for his handgun. Checking that it was fully loaded, he put the safety catch on and then put it back in its holster. He sunk back into the chair, his tense muscles resisting his will to relax.

He wrapped the blanket around his body, but he still couldn't get comfortable. He sighed and resigned himself to another restless night with no sleep. Standing slowly, he pulled the chair closer to Jill's bedside; the high pitched screech of the legs rubbing against the linoleum floor pierced the silence of the room. He then sat down and leant forward so that his head was resting on the cool cotton sheets of Jill's bed, his face was just next to her hand. Then sleep finally took him.

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Claire yawned and stretched her arms. ''How much longer are you going to be?''

''Patience.'' Leon said as he turned and winked at Claire who was perched on a stool by the large stainless table in the kitchen. She was swinging her legs like an impatient child. Leon was standing at the large gas stove in the kitchen, stirring something that was sizzling in a frying pan. He had small beads of perspiration on his brow from the heat generated by the stove, and every so often he wiped them away.

Leon then proceeded to turn off the gas at the knob, and divided the sizzling, steaming contents of the frying pan onto two plates. He placed one of the plates in front of Claire who looked up at him appreciatively.

''There you go. Crisis averted. You won't be going to bed hungry tonight.'' He smiled, and then sat down opposite her.

Claire tentatively took a spoonful of the food served up in front of her. She chewed it slowly at first, carefully tasting it. ''Mmmm. This is good - certainly better than last time.'' She nodded and swallowed. ''Looks like you've finally learned how to do a stir-fry. I'm impressed.''

''Well thank you very much.'' he replied with mock sarcasm. ''Glad you like it.'' He then began to eat. He realised that Claire was being a little over-generous with her opinion of his cooking - the chicken was over cooked and it was a little salty - but it was certainly an improvement on previous attempts. His previous attempts at 'proper cooking' usually ended up in the bin and he would dine on toast or scavenge the remains of other people's meals in the refrigerator.

They sat and ate without talking, only looking up from their plates every so often and grinning at each other. When Claire had finished eating, she placed down her fork and took a large gulp of water. ''I don't feel tired at all. I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight.'' she said, running her finger up and down the glass sat on the table in front of her.

''I know what you mean. I'm always pretty wired after a mission. I might go for a run or something, see if I can get rid of some of this energy.''

It was difficult for Claire to reconcile the fact that only four hours ago, they had just finished their mission briefing and were about to get into the helicopter. How things had changed in such a short time! They had retrieved Jill and she was going to be okay. She knew she should be euphoric - Jill was like a sister to her, but instead she felt uneasy. Something was wrong, she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was, but something was out of place.

''Do you think Jill's going to be alright?'' she asked Leon, the sudden seriousness of her tone surprising him. He reached across and gently put his hand on hers.

''Yes, Jill's going to be alright.'' He looked at her and could tell she was troubled by something. ''Claire, what's wrong?''

She sighed. ''I don't know. We've got Jill back - I know we should be happy but…''

''You're worried that there's something wrong with her? You know, Rebecca seems to think she'll be fine - and Rebecca is _never_ wrong.'' he smiled.

''I know. I'm just being silly. I guess I'm on a bit of a downer after all that excitement.'' She said, trying to convince herself.

Leon squeezed her hand. ''Everything's going to be alright, Jill's going to be alright. I promise.''

Leon had unconsciously turned over Claire's hand on the table and his fingers were delicately tracing its shape. They looked at each other but said nothing in a silent agreement. Claire could feel the pulse of her heart through her chest and down into her stomach. Leon stood up slowly and moved to stand behind her. He gently guided her red hair behind her ears and began to massage her shoulders. Claire then stood up and Leon leaned towards her, close enough so that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. His hands took hers then moved upwards, first tracing the length of her arms, then gently moving around her shoulders and down her back, finally coming to rest around her waist. He nuzzled into her neck.

''Leon…'' she murmured.

He turned her around and moved his face close to hers, their noses almost touching. Then the kitchen doors swung open and Carlos walked in. Claire moved away from Leon and coughed nervously. Carlos looked at them both, embarrassed, knowing that he had walked in on something that was about to happen.

Leon looked at Claire, slightly confused. She edged further away from him, and proceeded to clear up the empty plates on the table.

''Errr…I'll see you tomorrow Claire.'' Leon then turned to face Carlos. ''Hey Carlos.'' He slapped him on the shoulder. ''Nice flying. We couldn't have done it without you.'' He then left the kitchen before Carlos had the opportunity to respond.

Claire and Carlos watched Leon disappear through the door. Carlos walked across to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer.

''Drink?'' he asked, hopefully breaking was becoming a slightly uncomfortable silence.

''Why not.''

Carlos removed the bottle tops and handed one to Claire.

''Why do you guys keep pretending?'' he said as he sat down on the stool that was occupied by Leon a few minutes ago.

''What?'' she asked, laughing nervously.

''That you two are not together. You know something…'' he leaned across the table so his face was only a few inches from hers. ''If I had found the girl of my dreams, I would be shouting from the rooftops.'' He laughed and sat back down, taking a gulp of beer. He ran his hand through his hair.

''It just doesn't seem right, what with the way things are.'' Claire said almost apologetically.

''What things? This sounds like an excuse to me.''

''Oh, I don't know Carlos. This place, this job…..'' She gathered her red hair and tied it back in a loose ponytail. ''There's just too much to risk. If I had something…_someone_ to lose, maybe I wouldn't be able to do my job anymore.''

''The time is never going to be right Claire. There's always going to be something getting in your way. That's just the way it is for us. When you get the chance, you have to take it.''

She stared at her bottle of beer that she had set down on the table in front of her. ''So what about you Carlos? Anyone special I don't know about?'' she asked, eager to change the conversation.

''How am I supposed to meet anyone doing this job?'' he joked. ''I think I'm too late. I missed my chance.'' His eyes looked down for a moment.

''You know, Chris didn't mean to be so rude to you before. It's just they way he is when Jill's concerned.''

''I know, I won't hold it against him. He can be a pretty intense guy.''

''He's passionate about his job. He would be same for any of us.''

''I know he would.''

They finished their drinks in silence.

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The S.T.A.R.S guard showed Elisabeth to her new room. He opened the door and flicked on the light. It was a little shabby, but there were clean sheets on the bed and clean towels in the bathroom. It was certainly a step up from the cell she had spent the last couple of nights in.

''Just so you remember, we know where you are and what you're doing at all times. Don't try anything.'' the guard snarled. She could sense his hatred of her.

Elisabeth nodded obediently. The guard snorted and closed the door.

When she was sure that the guard had gone, she pulled the folder from underneath her kevlar vest, and stared at it for a moment. She couldn't understand why, but she felt afraid of what she was going to read. She threw the folder onto the bed.

She progressed into the small en-suite bathroom and showered. The water in the bottom of the shower was filthy - she was covered with dirt and soot. When she got out of the shower a few minutes later, the bathroom was filled with steam and condensation had covered the small mirror situated over the wash basin.

She wrapped a large bath towel around her and padded back into the bedroom. She sat on the bed and picked up the folder, turning it over and over, examining the cover, identifying and re-identifying flaws and cracks in the thin cardboard. She placed it back down on her bed, stood up and turned to walk away, but she stopped mid-stride. The power this half-inch thick wad of printed paper had over her was enormous. She picked it up from the bed, but still she couldn't open it and spill the contents. There was a strange empty feeling in her stomach. Her heartbeat was getting faster, the pounding became deafening in her ears. She was afraid of the secrets that folder was going to make her confront.

With a deep breath, she cracked the seal. She pulled out the papers and began to read.


	9. Chapter 9 Sympathy for the Devil

Disclaimer: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters, I am just a fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. It's taken a little longer to update as I had to do this one handed - I had a small 'accident' that involved me and my bike parting company. Ouch is all I can say. Thanks loads for being patient and coming back though. Anyways, there are a few bad words in here, so if you're easily offended…you have been warned!!

**Chapter 9 Sympathy for the devil **

Chris reached up and touched his chest with his left hand. It was warm and wet. He looked down at his hand and saw that it was covered with blood. It was his blood. He dropped heavily to his knees, the shockwave as he hit the concrete passing upwards through his spine. Simultaneously, his hands fell limp at his sides and he dropped his gun. The small red stain on his chest grew bigger and bigger until viscous scarlet fluid began to collect in a pool below him. He opened his mouth but he couldn't speak.

Jill heard the thud of Chris's rifle hitting the floor and she turned around to investigate.

''Chris!'' she screamed in horror as she ran across to him, a bullet missing her by inches. She caught his limp body as he fell forwards.

''I've got you. It's okay, it's going to be okay.'' She tried to soothe him as she gently laid him on his back and looked down into his glassy, unresponsive eyes. Chris was staring straight through her. He looked like he was dead.

She reached for her radio.

''Emergency! Chris has been hit - it's bad. Rebecca, we need you, now!''

''Where are you?'' a female voice responded.

''The north end of the docks, near the watch tower.''

''I'll be there in two minutes. Hold tight. Keep him talking, don't let him go into shock.''

''Please hurry.'' Jill pleaded. She shifted her attention back to the man lying wounded on the floor. ''Talk to me Chris, please.'' she cried as she gently shook his shoulders.

She squeezed his hand. It was cold and clammy. His pulse was rapid but very faint. Jill knew this meant he was going into shock and he probably didn't have long.

''Please Chris, talk to me. You're tough, fight through this.'' she whispered into his ear.

He blinked and swallowed hard. His breathing was ragged, but he _was_ breathing. She moved her face closer to his and looked right into his eyes. ''Chris, look at me. Look into my eyes. It's important.'' She commanded him.

There was some clarity in his eyes now, and he focussed on her. His mouth twitched, but he was still unable to talk.

Suddenly, Jill felt strong hands grab her shoulders and push her to the floor. Her arms and legs were quickly bound, even though she struggled hard. Chris could sense what was happening, but he lay prostrate on the floor. As Jill was dragged away, she could just make out a pair of legs walking across towards Chris and kicking him hard in his side.

''Leave him alone!!!!'' she screamed, kicked her legs as hard as she could, trying in vain to free herself.

Chris coughed up blood that splattered on his face and dribbled down his cheeks towards his neck. His body convulsed three times, the strength of each successive convulsion decreased. His hands twitched and then his body loosened as his head fell to one side, his eyes open. He was still. She was sure he was gone.

Jill opened her eyes and shot forwards.

''Chris!'' she cried out. Her clothes and sheets were drenched with sweat. Jill scanned the room. Her vision was blurry but the room seemed familiar, it smelt familiar.

''It was just a dream, it's okay, you're safe.'' a disembodied voice said.

Then a face came into focus as it approached her side.

''Chris!'' She said, her eyes widening in surprise. ''I thought you were _dead_ …..you were shot.'' Her voice was hoarse, but Chris could hear the relief. He nodded and smiled.

''Technically I was, but only for a few minutes thanks to Rebecca. Not an experience I would recommend though.'' Without realising, he placed his palm against the healed wound on his chest. He remembered the pain - it was excruciating - as it coursed through his body like lightning, paralysing him. He remembered being unable to scream. He wanted to let go, he was _ready_ to let go, but it was only Jill's voice that had kept him there.

Jill lay back down on the bed.

''Do you remember anything? Anything at all?'' Chris asked her, his voice was full of concern and almost reduced to a whisper.

Jill coughed and then swallowed, attempting to lubricate her throat which was uncomfortably dry and sore. ''The last thing I remember is being on the quayside. We were under heavy fire. We were trying to get into a lock-up. You were covering me while I was laying explosive charges.''

''Jill.'' Chris began as he sat on the side of her bed, one leg bent under him, looking her straight in the eyes. He placed one hand on her shoulder. ''That was over six months ago.''

She looked at him blankly. It couldn't be. It felt like it was only yesterday.

''_Six months?_ It can't be that long.'' She shook her head firmly, disbelieving, laughing nervously.

''Trust me, it's been six months.''

''I've been unconscious in here for the last six months? What happened?''

''You weren't here.''

Her eyes widened. ''Then where was I?''

Chris shifted uncomfortably. ''Do you remember anything else? Anything at all _after_ the quayside?''

''Nothing. I don't remember a thing…what happened to me Chris? Where have I been?''

''Listen, Rebecca said you may have some memory loss, but I'm sure things will come back to you sooner or later. You just have to be patient and not force it, okay?''

''Tell me what happened to me. You don't have to protect me.'' Her voice cracked. ''I need to know. Please.''

''I'm not sure that…''

''Chris. How long have we known each other? I would tell you if you asked me.''

''You were taken.'' He closed his eyes and looked down. ''There was nothing I could do…''

''By whom?''

''We don't know who they were exactly. We were looking for you for months, but there was no trace. It was only when we received intelligence a few days ago from one of our undercover operatives that we were able to locate you and get you out.''

Jill then looked down and reacted with horror to the drip attached to her arm. ''What is this?'' she shrieked. Her body stiffened as she pushed herself upwards onto her elbows.

''It's an anti-virus.'' He began.

''An anti-virus? For what? What have they done to me?'' Her voice was raised. She sat up and tore the drip from her arm. The blue fluid sprayed across the white sheets.

''You're fine, completely fine, there's nothing wrong with you.''

She ignored him, and dragged her weight towards the edge of the bed. Her legs were numb, so she pulled them from under the single white sheet and swung them over the edge. She pushed herself off the bed and tried to stand, but her wasted muscles were unable to take the weight. She began to fall, but Chris caught her and placed her back on the edge of the bed.

''You haven't used your legs for six months, you're going nowhere I'm afraid.''

''Chris.'' She whispered, looking down at her hands that were clasped in her lap. ''Am I different?''

''What?''

''Have they _changed_ me somehow?''

''No! You're perfectly fine…you're…..''

''Am I still _human_?''

Chris raised her chin with his hand, bringing her face in line with his. ''I promise you, nothing is wrong with you. You're perfectly healthy.''

''Because if there is something - you know what you have to do Chris.''

''Jill.'' His eyes were full of concern. ''I promise you, it will never come to that.''

She nodded.

There was a gentle knock on the door. The door then opened and Rebecca Chambers walked into the room. She was wearing a white lab coat over a pair of jeans and white t-shirt. She looked slightly dishevelled, like she had got dressed in a hurry. For a moment, she just stared straight at Jill. She smiled uncontrollably, unable to hide her happiness at the return of her friend.

''I heard voices and figured you were awake!''

''Rebecca! Am I glad to see you.'' Jill replied.

''Chris, I need to spend some time alone with Jill now. Just a few tests, that's all.''

''Okay. I'll be in operations if you need me for anything. Anything at all.''

Chris stood up and walked towards the door. Just before he left the room, he turned his head. ''It's great to have you back Jill.''

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Dr Elisabeth Badley was sat on the floor in her room, her back pressed against the wall. She was staring into space, almost catatonic. Her face betrayed no emotion. The curtains were drawn tightly and the room was lit only by a dim lamp sat on a small bedside table. There was an open folder on the bed, the pages it contained were scattered across the sheets. Some had fallen onto the floor. Some were torn and screwed up into a ball.

There was a hard knock on the door. She barely flinched.

There was another knock, more impatient this time. Elisabeth looked up towards the source of the noise.

''Badley?'' a voice shouted. ''It's time for you to go to work.''

She stared at the door, and then across to the scattered documents on the bed and floor. Elisabeth recognised the voice - it was Chris Redfield. She didn't know how long she had been sat on the floor - it must have been all night. She didn't feel tired though. In fact, she had probably never been so awake.

She took a deep breath and swallowed hard. ''Please give me five minutes and I'll be ready.'' She spoke with no emotion.

''Okay, you've got five minutes. Make you way to the operations room.''

''I don't know where that is….'' she replied, as she pushed herself to her feet and began to gather the scattered papers into a small pile. She hastily stuffed them back into the cardboard folder.

''Someone will show you. Five minutes.'' he repeated.

Elisabeth then heard his footsteps as he walked away from her room and down the tiled corridor.

She wandered into the small en-suite bathroom and scanned the floor and ceiling. She noticed a small ventilation duct in the corner of the room, above the white ceramic bath. Balancing on the edge of the bath, she pushed the metal grille aside and stuffed the folder of papers into the duct. She then replaced the grille and jumped down.

She moved across to the small pedestal sink and turned on the cold tap, holding her fingers underneath the running water to check the temperature. She splashed her face with water and then filled a small plastic glass. She took a large gulp, but she struggled to swallow - it was as though her whole body had tensed-up.

She stared at herself in the small mirror situated above the sink.

She spat the water at her reflection.

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Claire Redfield was sat alone at a computer terminal in the operations room. The operations room was situated in the west wing of the old boarding school building and consisted of a number of adjoining classrooms where the dividing walls had been demolished and a number of rectangular support columns had been erected in their place. The windows were blacked out, although the room was well lit by bright fluorescent strip lights linearly arranged on the white washed ceiling. There were rows of desks arranged in crude semi-circles around a large screen on the back wall. Computers were sat on each of the desks. On the opposite end of the room to the screen was a large white board upon which numerous names, dates and places were scribbled in different coloured ink. Boxes and arrows appeared to link certain pieces of information.

Except for the constant hum of the computer fans and air conditioning units, the room was quiet. Claire was frantically making notes on a sketch pad sat on the workspace by her computer terminal. She was so focussed in her task that she didn't hear Chris enter the room. He walked across to her and looked over her shoulder at her computer screen.

Chris broke the silence. ''Mexico? Why are you are reading that again?''

Startled, Claire jumped in her seat.

''Chris, I didn't hear you come in!''

''Sorry. I didn't mean to make you jump.'' he said, putting his hands on his sister's shoulders and squeezing gently. ''She's awake.''

Claire swivelled her chair around to face Chris. ''Jill? Really? Is she okay? Can I go and talk to her? Does she remember anything?''

''Whoa - one question at a time!'' he teased. ''She seems fine. Like Rebecca said, she's a bit disorientated, but there doesn't appear to be anything lasting.''

''Can I go and see her?''

''I'm sure she'll be pleased to see you.'' Chris then gestured towards Claire's computer screen. ''So, what are you looking for?''

''I thought I would read up on the Mexico incident. Maybe there's something I missed. Something that seems unimportant but..''

Chris stiffened, his eyes became dark. ''You're still thinking it's related to what we saw at the facility last night?''

She nodded. ''Based upon what Leon and Elisabeth saw in that freezer, yeah. There might be something we missed in the case files that can help us figure out who and where these people are - and exactly what their plans are.''

''That's everything I remember in that file Claire. I chased down every lead and got nowhere.'' Chris said, almost defensively. It was Chris's persistence with the case five years ago that had almost led to a second discharge from the armed forces. However, it brought him back to the attention of General Oscar Keller who, at the time, was looking to re-establish the S.T.A.R.S as an elite force to combat a number of gruesome 'phenomenon' that were occurring with increasing regularity across the continent.

''I know, I know, but maybe we can cross check some of these names and faces with the files we managed to download from the server last night. The only problem is, a lot of that data is encrypted and I can't unlock it. Yet.'' She leaned back in her chair and stretched her arms. ''I just know there's a link, and I'm going to find it. We're going to end this.''

Chris noticed a number of empty and part coffee-filled polystyrene foam cups scattered across the desk. It looked like she had been at the terminal for some time.

''How long have you been in here?''

''I couldn't sleep.'' she groaned. ''I'd rather spend my time doing something more useful than staring at the ceiling all night.''

Chris understood - she was his sister alright. ''You take a break. Go see Jill, and I'll take over here for a while.''

Claire nodded. She stood up and made for the exit, but before she left the room, she turned to face Chris.

''It's weird isn't it?'' she began. ''To get the team back together again, the way things were.''

''I'm sure things won't be _exactly _the same as they used to be.'' Chris replied.

''No.'' she replied, almost sadly. ''But I think this is probably as close as we'll get.''

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Elisabeth walked backwards out of her room and closed the door. She didn't notice the young S.T.A.R.S operative who was waiting for her outside in the corridor. She recognised him - he was the helicopter pilot from last night. His back was pressed against the wall and his hand was hovering over the weapon holstered by his hip.

''Follow me.'' he said curtly, before he straightened up and began to walk.

Elisabeth nodded and did as instructed, surreptitiously studying her guide. He was young, early to mid-twenties, with brilliant green eyes although he had the demeanour of someone much older. He had a slight limp - she inferred an old leg injury that had never quite healed - and a weary gait.

''Justin.''

His pace slowed. ''What?''

''That's your name, right?''

He nodded.

''That was pretty good flying last night, with Carlos. For a minute, I didn't think we were going to make it.''

He stopped, and turned sharply to face Elisabeth, his face inches from hers.

''Look, let me save you some time. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to exchange pleasantries, I don't want to accept your compliments, I don't want to be your friend. Just follow me.''

She nodded, taken aback slightly by the abruptness of his reply. ''Well, lead the way.'' she said, gesturing down the corridor with one hand.

Justin breathed in heavily. He hated every moment he had to spend in the company of Elisabeth Badley. To him, she was a symbol of evil, nothing more, nothing less. He felt that although she had never had her hand on the trigger, she was one of those responsible for the deaths of hundreds - if not thousands - of people.

Further down the corridor, they passed two other S.T.A.R.S members, both male in their early thirties. They had a grizzled, battle weary aura and perhaps looked a little older than they really were. The two men had stopped walking abruptly and their eyes followed Elisabeth as she self consciously walked past them. She couldn't help but see the look of contempt they gave her. This was going to be hard work. She knew she would have trouble convincing them that she wanted to help, but she didn't think it would be so hard, _so humiliating_. Maybe she would have been better off on her own afterall? She'd helped them retrieve Jill Valentine at great personal risk, but they still doubted her motives. What would she have to do to finally convince them?

''You were a police officer at that town that had the explosion at the fertiliser plant, right?''

Something inside of Justin snapped. He turned and drove his body into hers, knocked them both off-balance and to the ground. He clasped his hands around her neck and began to squeeze. Choking, she desperately tried to push him away but he held her down firmly with his weight.

''You have no idea what you've done, do you!'' he screamed. He released one of his hands from around her neck and yanked his handgun from its holster. He pressed the gun against her forehead.

''Why are you here? Are you a spy? Is that it? Or have you just come here to kill the ones that got away?''

''No!'' she gurgled through her constricted throat.

''I'm going to kill you, right now.'' His face was twisted and red with fury. He cocked his weapon. ''I've lost my family because of you. God damn you!''

Elisabeth squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the end, but suddenly the weight was lifted from her chest and she could breathe again. She coughed as her lungs filled with air. She pushed herself up to her elbows and saw Leon Kennedy grappling with Justin on the floor. Leon wrestled the gun out of his colleague's hands.

''Just let it go Justin, let it go.'' Leon said, trying to calm the other man down.

''You don't understand Leon. She did it.'' He pointed at her accusingly. ''You can't trust her.'' He spat through gritted teeth.

''No we can't, but we need her Justin. For now, we need her.'' Leon had easily overpowered Justin, and he had the younger man in an arm lock.

Justin stopped struggling on the floor and Leon released him. They both pushed themselves to their feet.

''Look, why don't you go to the chopper. Evaluate the damage from last night. We need it operational within twenty four hours.''

Justin's chest was heaving and his hands were clenched tight. He scanned the floor for his gun.

''Get this out of your system.'' Leon said firmly as he grasped Justin's shoulders. ''You're no good to us in this state of mind.''

Justin looked down submissively at the white tiled floor for a moment before he nodded. He looked up first at Leon and then across at Elisabeth, before he turned and walked away in the opposite direction.

''Thanks, Leon.'' Elisabeth croaked, rubbing her throat and staring down the corridor after Justin. ''He was going to kill me.''

Leon held his hand out to Elisabeth and helped her to her feet.

''You've got to stop pissing people off.'' he said earnestly.

''I just commended him for his piloting skills last night.''

''Yeah, sure you did.'' Leon replied dismissively. ''Anyway, it's time to go to work. A lot of the data we downloaded from the server last night was encrypted and I'm guessing you can decrypt it.''

''What do I have to do Leon?''

''Well, I was hoping you'd know how to decrypt the files.''

''Not the files. I'm talking about you, all of you. What do I have to do to get you to trust me? I've made mistakes, and I know I'm going to be punished for them one way or another, but I came to you because I thought ...''

''You came to us because you had no choice.'' Leon said. ''Everyone makes mistakes Elisabeth, but not all of those mistakes cost lives. You've done some pretty bad things, _unforgivable things_, but if you've turned your back on that life now, well, maybe that counts for something.''

''The way everyone looks at me here…..like I'm some kind of……_devil_.''

''We're a tight group. We don't tend to trust people.''

''And I'll never earn their trust.'' she said sadly, bowing her head.

''Probably not, no. But that shouldn't stop you trying.''

Elisabeth sighed. For the first time last night, she felt like she was part of something special, a team of selfless individuals working on the right side. What could she have made of her life if she had chosen the right side all those years ago? But life wasn't like that for her. She never the luxury of choice.

''After everything I did to help Jill, why don't you believe me?''

''One selfless act can't erase a lifetime of bad deeds. Besides, it was partially your fault that she was there in the first place.''

''Could you learn to trust me? If I really proved to you, to all of you, that I have changed….''

''Maybe.'' he mused. ''I like to think there's good in everyone. Maybe even an ex-Umbrella employee.''

''Thank you. You don't know how much that means to me to hear that.''

''I still didn't say I trusted you. There are just too many things about you that don't make sense.''

''Like what?''

''I've seen you do things that no _scientist_ can do. ''You've had training - _military training_.''

''I lived on a military base for five years. I learned as much as I could. About _everything_.''

_Yes, I'm sure you did Leon thought._

They walked the rest of the way to the operations room in silence.

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Claire was stood with her arms crossed by the window, looking wistfully out at the slightly unkempt lawn to the rear of the medical wing. Her red hair appeared to be on fire due to the reflection of the early morning sun. ''Have you ever thought about what you're going to do when all this is over?'' She turned to face Jill.

''No. Not really. I guess I'm a career soldier. I can't see myself doing anything else.'' She laughed. She was rubbing and stretching her legs, hoping to get some feeling back in them. She had only been restricted to the bed for a few hours, and already she was beginning to feel stir crazy. Even though she felt perfectly okay, Rebecca wanted her to stay in the medical wing for a couple of days, just to be sure. She was grateful for Claire's company.

''I want to go back college, finish my degree.'' Claire said longingly. ''Get a job, pay my taxes, go on vacation twice a year, and maybe hit the road on my bike.'' She smiled, but her eyes suddenly narrowed and her voice became quiet. ''They've taken so much from me. From all of us. I often wonder about the life I might have had if Chris hadn't moved to Raccoon City. If I hadn't followed him there. If I was completely ignorant of all this…''

''We can't change anything that's happened Claire. This is the way it is. I wish I had some sage advice to give you. I've thought about this too, but you know what?''

''What?''

''How many more people do you think would have died if Chris hadn't destroyed the Arklay Mountains lab, or if you and Leon hadn't been in Raccoon City that day?'' Claire sighed as Jill continued. ''I wouldn't have met Chris, or you. I probably wouldn't have met any of you guys. So in one way, some good has come out of this.''

Clare walked across to Jill's bed and perched herself on the edge. She suddenly looked very sad.

''That day - when you disappeared and Chris was hurt. I thought my heart was going to break.'' She looked at Jill, nodding her head. ''Really. Seeing him lying there - pale, lifeless, cold - I would have given anything to take his place. Or for someone else to take his place….'' A single tear escaped from her bright blue eye and cascaded down her cheek.

''Oh Claire.'' Jill soothed as she lent forward and hugged her friend.

Claire pulled away gently and looked into Jill's eyes. ''I felt so bad for thinking that way, for wishing you…any of you…were lying there instead of him.''

''Don't feel bad, really, don't. We've all lost people - friends, family, lovers…and the pain doesn't go away. But it's that pain that drives us on, to finish this fight. That pain is there to remind you that you have had someone special in your life, and that we _have_ to do this for them. For all those people who don't have a voice anymore. _We_'re _doing this for them._''

Jill hugged Claire again, and gently stroked her hair. ''Have you been torturing yourself with this?''

Claire nodded.

''Well, no more!'' Jill ordered.

''There's something else.''

''What?''

''I….I thought you were gone, I tried to stop Chris looking for you. If he'd have listened to me, we wouldn't have found you.''

''Claire, it's okay.''

''You don't understand Jill. I didn't want to go looking for you anymore. I _wanted_ you to be dead because not knowing was so much worse.''

''Claire…''

''They were using you to get to us and…''

''Claire, stop it! You have nothing to feel guilty about. I know the risks, every mission we go on, we know it might be our last. There are things going on here that are more important than me, you, Chris…we have to accept that.'' She smiled warmly at Claire. ''The important thing is that no one was hurt this time.''

Claire relented. ''I just feel that we've been lucky so far. I feel like something terrible is about to happen.''

''Then we'll deal with it. Whatever comes, we'll deal with it.''

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Leon and Elisabeth entered the operations room. Elisabeth spotted Chris Redfield sitting at one of the computer terminals. He looked up. Elisabeth noted an immense physical change in him from the previous few days. He was now cleanly shaven, and the eyes that had previously been dark and menacing were now bright.

''Where's Justin?'' he asked.

Leon coughed nervously. ''He went to check on the helicopter. He wanted to make sure there are no problems. We took a few hits a last night.''

Chris nodded. Something had obviously happened, but he had other things to think about right now that were much more important. ''Elisabeth, a lot of these files are encrypted and our standard decryption programs don't work.''

''That's not a problem.'' She walked directly across to where Chris was sitting and gestured towards the keyboard sat on the desk in front of him. ''May I?''

Chris stood up and made way for Elisabeth, holding out the chair for her to sit. ''Be my guest.''

''Just give me one minute.'' She sat down and rolled the chair closer to the desk. She typed feverishly on the keyboard. Less than a minute later, she smiled and stopped typing with a self satisfied flourish. ''Done.''

Chris looked over her shoulder at the screen. ''So, what am I looking at?''

''Everything seems to be here. Personnel - that'll be staff and associates. Anybody that has had _anything_ to do with the facility. The financial records are here too. Science, communications…'' she laughed quietly. ''Looks like they're still checking everyone's email and telephone calls.''

''Right, I'll take communications. Leon, you take personnel. Carlos….''

Carlos Oliveira walked into the room, closely followed by Rebecca Chambers, clutching a large steaming mug of coffee.

''You take financial.''

Carlos looked bemused. He turned to face Rebecca. ''Do you ever get the feeling you're walking in on something?''

Chris ignored Carlos's attempt at humour. ''Elisabeth's decrypted the files. I want you to go through the financial records - focus on names. I want to know where they get their funding. Rebecca.'' He changed his focus to the young woman. ''You take science. Elisabeth - I want you to work with Rebecca. Answer all her questions.''

Chris looked at the computer screen again and noticed an icon for another folder that Elisabeth had not mentioned.

''What's this?'' he said, pointing to the screen.

She clicked on the icon but an error message denying access appeared.

''I don't know.'' she replied, seemingly confused. She began typing, but shook her head. ''I'm sorry, I can't access this.''

''Okay, we'll deal with that later.'' ''By tomorrow morning, I want to know everything about that place. I want to know who is running the show.''

Everyone nodded in unison and went to work.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Several hours had passed and it was very late in the evening. Rebecca had returned to the medical wing to check on Jill, and Elisabeth had gone to bed. Chris was reading through a seemingly endless number of printed documents. He was leaning back in his chair; his crossed legs were balanced on the desk in front of him. Suddenly he yanked his feet off the table and sat bolt upright.

''I knew it! I knew that bastard would be involved in this somehow.'' He said excitedly.

Carlos and Leon both looked up from their monitors.

''Listen to this.'' Chris commanded their attention. ''An email dated Monday March 26th. _The samples and prototypes are with Methuselah. You may have the date and timing of the exchange when the funds are received. _Signed A.W.A.W. It's him. I know it.''

''Albert Wesker''. Leon snarled. Just the mention of his name made Chris tense up.

''What's Methuselah?'' Carlos added. ''Is it a codeword for someone or something?''

''I don't know, but this email was sent less than a week ago. He got a reply. Tuesday March 27th. _The funds have been transferred. Awaiting a date for delivery._ This email is a week old - this was sent just before Jimmy broke cover.''

''Do you think that was way he was killed? Because he stumbled onto something to do with Wesker?''

Chris unconsciously rubbed his chin and nodded. ''Well, I don't believe in coincidences. This exchange - whatever it's for - may not have been made yet. Concentrate on Methuselah. If Wesker's going to surface, I want to be there waiting for him.''

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Elisabeth's eyes opened abruptly. Her pupils enlarged as she attempted to focus in the darkness of her room. She rolled onto her back, stared at the ceiling and sighed. Her bed was too soft, giving her an ache in her lower back which went into a spasm as she reached across and switched on the small bedside lamp. She flinched as her eyes re-adjusted to the brightness, and then looked at her wrist watch. It was 3am. She sat upright on the edge of her bed, her bare feet planted on the worn dark green carpet. In an attempt to stretch out her back, she reached forwards with her arms and rolled her head from side to side.

Standing up, she padded across the room to the bathroom and poured herself a glass of water. She took a sip of the water and looked at herself in the mirror. Superficially, she looked the same as she always did - mousy blond hair, green eyes, pale skin - but there was something different. Maybe not in the way she _looked_ exactly, but something was different. Knowledge was a terrible thing.

Her stomach grumbled. She realised that she had subsisted on coffee that day and she was hungry, so she decided to go down to the kitchen in order to find some food. She walked barefoot from her room through the dark and eerily empty corridors of the S.T.A.R.S headquarters building towards the kitchen. The floors were cold and her feet quickly went numb.

When she reached the kitchen, she walked straight across to the industrial-sized stainless steel refrigerator. Opening the doors, she was suddenly bathed in a crisp white light. She surveyed the shelves that were crammed with leftovers in tupperware boxes and on cling film-covered plates. She settled on a plate of cold chicken drumsticks.

With one hand, she unwrapped the chicken, discarding the cling film on the stainless table that ran the length of the room. She picked up a drumstick with the other hand and took a bite. As she swallowed the chicken, there was a sharp pain in her stomach. She ignored it at first and the pain subsided, but then her stomach went into spasm again but with more intensity. The shock caused her to drop the plate which smashed, scattering shards of white ceramic all over the kitchen floor. She doubled over, her arms wrapped around her middle, tightening around her stomach.

''Dammit.'' she said through gritted teeth as she took slow, deep breaths.

The pain subsided a few moments later and she stood upright. She groaned as she looked at the mess on the floor that was illuminated by the refrigerator light. There was a dustpan and brush in the corner of the kitchen by the sink. She took a few steps in the direction of the sink when the pain in her stomach returned, more intense than before. Falling to her knees, she doubled over and retched repeatedly. When the nausea subsided, she shrieked in horror as she realised that the linoleum floor around her was covered in blood. There was blood all down the front of her white t-shirt and trousers. There was blood on the ends of her hair. She reached up and wiped her face - she looked down and realised that she had wiped away more blood from around her mouth.

''Somebody!'' she shouted. ''Help me!''

Panicked, she crawled across the kitchen floor, her knees slipping on the blood, her hands and feet were cut by the shards of the broken plate. She reached the sink and pulled herself up. She retched again, and semi-coagulated blood splattered across the stainless steel and the pristine white tiles on the wall. She ran the tap and scooped up cold water with her left hand. She poured the water in her mouth, swilling it around, trying to get rid of the metallic taste. She retched again, and collapsed back onto the floor.

''Somebody….help me! Please!'' she wailed.

She then looked down at her stomach. It was undulating - it looked like there was something in there, trying to push its way out. Reaching up blindly, she felt the draining board next to the sink. Her hands came to rest on the handle of a large cook's knife. She picked up the knife and brought it to her lap. The angle that she held the knife was such that she could see her reflection in her blade. Her face was puffy and yellow, her eyes were red. Blood was dripping down her chin and congealing in the corners of her mouth.

Holding the handle with both hands, she rotated the blade so that the pointed end was directed towards her midriff. She held her breath, closed her eyes and then plunged. She leaned backwards, her mouth open in a silent scream. She withdrew the blade and plunged again. And again.

Elisabeth sat bolt upright in her bed, out of breath and sweating profusely. She flicked on the bedside lamp and looked down at her front. Although wet, there were no bloodstains on her white t-shirt. She got out of bed and rushed across to the door. She opened the door and took one step out into the corridor.

''Is everything okay?'' a gentle female voice asked. Elisabeth turned to her right and came face to face with Rebecca Chambers. ''You look a little…well…pale.'' Rebecca added. ''Chris said you didn't seem to good earlier so I thought I'd come and check up on you.''

''Everything's fine.'' Elisabeth said without emotion as she closed the door.


	10. Chapter 10 Undertow

Disclaimer: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters, I am just a fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. I hate swearing (!), but sometimes 'aww bugger' just don't cut it, so if you're easily offended by certain four letter crude words...

**Chapter 10 Undertow**

Elisabeth wandered into the kitchen and then straight across to the refrigerator. Pulling open the big stainless steel door, she looked inside. Somewhat irritated, she carelessly moved tupperware boxes aside and knocked over half-filled bottles. She closed the door and then opened the door to the freezer compartment.

''Bingo.'' she said to herself as she pulled out a bottle of vodka and a tray of ice cubes.

She then went across to the sink and picked up a glass from the drainer. Twisting the plastic ice cube tray, she placed the liberated cubes in the glass, and then filled the glass with vodka. She held the glass up in front of her face, and inspected the cubes floating within the clear fluid. She sighed, and drank the contents of the glass in one go.

''Euurgh.'' she groaned as she shook her head and momentarily clenched her eyes shut as the vodka burned her throat and made her stomach lurch. She re-filled the glass and repeated the process, only this time her throat didn't burn as much. Moreover, it yielded a slightly numbing sensation that wasn't at all unpleasant. Perching on one of the stools situated along the stainless steel table that ran the length of the kitchen, she decided to dispense with the glass and drink straight from the bottle. After only a few more mouthfuls, she found herself beginning to slouch forward as her vision became blurred. She began to thumb carelessly through the papers stuffed into the cardboard folder that was sat on the table in front of her. Then she lay forward on top of the papers with her head in her hands and laughed. The laugh then turned into an anguished wail.

Elisabeth barely looked up as the kitchen door swung open. Foot steps revealed the presence of someone else in the room.

''I thought you weren't feeling well.'' a masculine voice enquired.

She sat up abruptly and coughed, as though to disguise the fact that she was not only drunk, but crying. She was not used to anyone seeing her in an emotionally vulnerable state. In fact, she had never really been in an emotionally vulnerable state. This was a whole new experience.

''I feel a little better now.'' Her words were slightly slurred. ''What's the matter Redfield, never had a drink before?'' she hissed as she noted the disapproving look on the man's face.

Chris walked across to her, and picking up the bottle of vodka, he screwed the lid on it before putting it back in the freezer compartment.

''This doesn't help. Trust me.'' Chris then walked across to one of the worktops where a pot of coffee was bubbling. He filled a mug and slid it across the table towards Elisabeth.

''Do you want to know something, Redfield?'' she asked, pointing her finger.

''What?''

''I bet you're always right, aren't you?''

''I'm sorry?''

''I bet you're right all the time. And even when you're not right - _you're right_''

Chris rolled his eyes. There was nothing he hated more than listening to the musings of a drunk. ''What are you talking about?'' he asked, growing impatient.

''Take me for example. What do you _really_ think about me? Have I been telling you the truth? Have I really left behind my life of crime?'' she laughed sarcastically, seemingly mocking Chris. Her face suddenly became stony. ''What do you really know about me?''

''I know that you're intelligent, devious, well-trained, probably a liar…'' Elisabeth smirked, but Chris ignored her. ''But you need our help because you got out of your depth.''

''Ever since I can remember,'' she replied ''I was the best at _everything_. I did well at school - I was practically a genius, I excelled in sports - there was _nothing_ I couldn't do. I was offered a research position at a top secret government laboratory at nineteen years old! Imagine that!''

''So you're just going to sit here and tell me how great you are? Then how come thing's have ended up so bad for you?''

''You see Chris, I was arrogant enough to think I was naturally smart, gifted in fact, but all I am is someone's fucking science experiment.''

Elisabeth then pushed the folder across the table towards Chris. He looked down at the bundle of papers, and began to skim-read those on top. Keeping his head bowed down, his eyes looked up to focus on Elisabeth. She seemed to be having some difficultly staying upright on the stool, and her head was rolling on her shoulders.

''I thought he'd picked me out, realised that I was _special_, that I was capable of great things.''

''Who?''

''Who do you think? Wesker. Albert Wesker. They _made_ me. Wesker and his _friends._ They _designed_ me to be what I am.''

Chris, his brow furrowed, continued to thumb through the papers. They were old - some of them were faded and yellowing. The surface of a number of black and white photographs was cracking. ''It doesn't feel too good, does it?''

''What?'' Elisabeth snapped, just before taking a mouthful of coffee. It tasted bitter. She was starting to feel a little nauseous from the alcohol, and struggled to swallow.

''Someone screwing with your life.''

''He was the only man to take an interest in _me_. What I could do with my mind. Not what I looked like. I loved working with him. He was a genius - he helped me take my research forward in ways I could never have dreamed of. Well, that's what I thought anyway. How wrong was I?'' She was unconsciously clenching and un-clenching her fists on the table. ''I want to hurt him Chris. I want to make sure that man ruins no more lives.'' she added in a whispered tone.

For the first time since she had walked into the S.T.A.R.S headquarters, Chris thought he saw real emotion in her cold green eyes rather than a void. Up until now, she had maintained a strange calmness that made him wary. He was always wary of people that expressed no emotion. They were invariably dangerous. ''Okay, then you can tell me who Methuselah is.''

''Ah, Methuselah. It's not a _who_, it's a _what_. The Methuselah is a ship.''

Chris looked at her blankly. ''A ship?''

''It's what you could call a mobile laboratory. It's disguised as a science vessel - part of the international ocean drilling program if I remember rightly. This gives it licence to travel and dock anywhere in the world.''

''But surely a ship can't move around the world unchecked. Why has no one heard of this before?''

''Have you not been listening to anything I've said to you?'' she mocked. ''They have friends in high places. In the grand scheme of things, getting a ship to bypass customs is not so difficult.''

''All you need is money.''

''Absolutely, and the right connections. For the most part, the Methuselah moves openly in international waters so it _can't_ be stopped legally, and only comes ashore for supplies every thirty days or so.''

''So how do we find it? How do find out where it will dock next?''

''I'm guessing the schedule is in the files we downloaded. Why are you so keen to track it down? There are other facilities out there that I know of which are much bigger, more significant than this one. This is just a small operation...''

''Because he's going to be there.''

''Who? _Wesker?_''

Chris merely nodded. He was loathe to say that man's name.

''Then I want in. I'll do anything you want, but I want to be there. I want to help you take him down.''

''Why are you so eager to come now? You were terrified last time. Aren't you afraid anymore that they're going to kill you?''

''You know as well as I do that I was dead the moment I walked out of that laboratory and into this school. I underestimated my opponents, so I lose. Sooner or later, someone _will_ get to me. It might be one of theirs. It just could as likely be one of yours.'' Her thoughts were cast back to Justin's rather violent reaction to her earlier in the day. ''It's only a matter of time.''

Chris had understood this from the beginning; therefore he wanted to get as much information as possible from her. However, now he was starting to get to know her, to understand what had driven her to this point, he felt shame for some of his actions. Using people and then throwing them away when they were no more use - that was more a trait of Umbrella, not the S.T.A.R.S, not Chris Redfield. Of all of the people he had killed in the line of duty - could he have given any of them a second chance? Were any of them worthy of an opportunity to put things right, like Elisabeth claimed she wanted to? Was he a worthy judge? Somehow, after all these years of fighting, the line between him and them was becoming blurred.

''Finish that and get some sleep, it's late.'' Chris said, glancing at his watch. ''I'm going to need you tomorrow.'' Chris made for the door. ''No more games.'' he said over his shoulder.

''No more games.'' she repeated.

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The white-washed walls, white tiled floor and white sheets on the bed made the room unbearably bright as the early morning sun poured in through the window. Jill Valentine was perched on the edge of her bed, rubbing and stretching her legs. She had only been restricted to the room for just over a day, and she felt like she was going crazy.

Taking a deep breath, she psyched herself up and pushed herself off the edge of the bed. Her legs bowed, still weak and barely able to take her weight, but she clung desperately to the edge of the bed for support. Taking another deep breath, she pushed herself upright with a gargantuan effort and stood there, swaying slightly as her knees locked. She smiled, satisfied. Progress at last. Her muscles were aching - she had repeated this process many times over the night, but had not got this far. Slowly, she pushed one foot in front of the other. She moved awkwardly, almost a like poorly-controlled marionette. The second step was more controlled. The third step was almost perfect.

Slowly, she made her way into the small en-suite bathroom at the far side of the room where she noted a comb sat on the white porcelain sink. Glancing at herself in the mirror situated on the tiled wall above the sink, she saw that her hair was messy and knotted. Picking up the comb with her left hand, she gently dragged it through her hair. She stopped abruptly and looked at the comb. She switched it to her right hand and carried on, but that felt wrong too. Was she left or right handed? She looked closer at her reflection in the mirror. Small pink flecks were visible within the bright blue of her irises. Then she looked down at her arm. A small red mark the size of a pin prick was the only evidence of her recent ordeal.

Suddenly, there was a strange rhythmic humming noise in her head, and the walls of the bathroom seemed darken and close in on her. She felt queasy and gulped for oxygen as the air became thick and foul tasting. The strength in her legs left her, and she slid slowly to the floor coming to rest on the cold hard tiles.

In her head, she could hear voices.

_''Why did you bring her onboard the Methuselah? You should have just killed her.'' a panicked voice cried out._

_''Don't question me, I'm just doing what I was told.'' came an irritated reply._

''Jill!'' A voice cried, bringing her consciousness back to the bathroom floor. Jill felt strong arms clasp her shoulders and gently guide her back up to a seating position against the wall. She opened her eyes and saw Chris's face only inches from hers.

''Chris?'' she groaned.

''What...what happened? What's wrong?'' Chris asked, panicked.

''I...I...just came in here and I think I blacked out for a second...''

Chris looked in her eyes. ''Did you bang your head? Do you feel any pain?'' He brushed her hair aside, examining her head for any sign of injury.

''I heard voices.''

''Voices?''

''I think it was the people who...took me.''

''What did they say? Did you recognise them?''

She shook her head sadly. ''I don't remember.'' Frustrated tears began to form in her eyes. ''I don't remember anything.''

Chris leaned forward and hugged her. Gently stroking her hair, he whispered in her ear. ''It's okay Jill. You'll remember everything when you're ready.''

''I don't know if I want to.'' she murmured.

Chris squeezed, and closed his eyes. ''I don't know if I want you to either.'' he thought.

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Elisabeth awoke with a terrible headache. She had never really been a drinker, and she quickly realised that she would never be a drinker. Stumbling across her room towards the bathroom, she tripped on her clothes and shoes that lay scattered across the floor where she had carelessly thrown them before collapsing on her bed. Upon reaching the bathroom, she bent over the faucet so she could drink directly from the cold water that was gushing from the tap. The water washed away the furry feeling on her tongue although it did nothing for her thick head as she felt dizzy when she stood upright.

The conversation she had with Chris Redfield a few hours ago then poured into the back of her mind. They would have found out sooner or later, she reasoned with herself. Maybe they would hate her more now they knew - maybe they would hate her less. Finding the folder and the contents certainly hadn't been part of her plan, but she had to do what she did best. Adapt. There certainly was some truth in what Chris had said to her - it doesn't feel good when your life and your actions are manipulated by someone - particularly if it's someone you trust. She was no fool, she knew Wesker. She knew of the terrible things he had done, and planned to do, but she was sure they had a special relationship, that somehow she could influence him, that he looked at her as an equal. Well, their relationship _was_ special, but not in the way she thought. He had kept her close and watched her over the years like a scientist manages his experiment.

She dressed quickly and decided to go to the lab in the medical wing where she could talk to Rebecca Chambers. She had only spoken to her once, but she felt a strong affinity with Rebecca. She too was a gifted individual, and perhaps had been isolated from many normal aspects of life as a consequence. She understood that on the outside, Rebecca appeared timid, but she had survived horrors that most people could only experience in their most vicious nightmares. With all of the opportunities open to her however, Elisabeth could never understand why Rebecca chose to work for the S.T.A.R.S. She was an ideal candidate for Umbrella or one of their contemporaries. They could have been co-workers. What could they have achieved if they'd worked together Elisabeth mused.

A guard was stood at the entrance to the medical wing. He looked Elisabeth up and down, making no attempt to hide his contempt.

''No one is allowed in.'' he said, leaving no inlet for discussion.

''I'm here to speak to Rebecca Chambers.''

''No one is allowed in.'' he repeated with a sarcastic smile.

Elisabeth took a deep breath. ''Then call her, and ask her if I can come in. Please.'' She forced herself to remain civil, although she was beginning to tire of all the hostility.

For a moment, it looked like the guard wasn't going to do anything, but then he reached across to a small phone that was mounted on the wall behind him. He pressed a few buttons.

''Rebecca? Dr Elisabeth Badley wants to come in and speak to you.'' He stared menacingly at Elisabeth as he spoke. ''Okay.'' he said into the phone mouthpiece, nodding. ''You sure?''

He put the phone down. ''You can go in. Go straight down the main corridor to the last room on the right - that's Rebecca's lab. She's in there.'' He pushed the door open, allowing her to walk through. ''Don't deviate.'' he warned.

Elisabeth walked straight down the corridor as directed and entered the lab where Rebecca was busy replacing glass bottles of chemicals back on a stainless steel shelf. Elisabeth's eyes widened as she noticed her folder open on one of the laboratory benches.

''So you know all about me then.'' she said, gesturing towards the folder.

Rebecca nodded. ''Chris showed it to me this morning. I'm sorry. I suppose finding out something like this can be a shock.''

Elisabeth scanned the laboratory. On one wall was a large copy of the periodic table. She smiled at the cliché. On the opposite wall was a large white board upon which a number of molecular structures were sketched in red marker pen. Elisabeth realised that Rebecca had already deciphered the structure of the Lazarus gene. She was impressed - she really was as intelligent as her research had suggested. There was a large bench in the centre of the room. A number of glass vessels, flasks and funnels were co-joined by a series of clear plastic tubes. At the end of the bench, blue and red fluid was collecting in separate sealed glass beakers.

Rebecca noticed Elisabeth's attention on the apparatus on the bench. ''Synthesising it is relatively easy, but I've been thinking about the side affects. There must be some way to inhibit the gene when it becomes part of the host's DNA so that it only activates when stimulated. That should stop the mutation.''

''It's all about the temperature.''

''The temperature?''

''You have to keep it at 37.5 degrees before introducing it to the subject.''

''The temperature of the human body - that makes sense.''

''Yes. Any deviation in temperature makes it more prone to initiate mutation. Simple.''

''So you perfected it after all, but didn't tell them? Is that why they wanted to kill you?''

Elisabeth shook her head sadly. ''They were more interested in the mutation. They didn't want Lazarus to work the way I wanted, the way I designed it, so I decided to take it somewhere else.''

''You mean a competitor.''

''Yes, a competitor. Someone who would let me do my work. I'm not proud of what I did. I suppose you could say I decided to sell my research to the highest bidder.''

''Well, right or wrong, I've got to admit it, what you've done is genius. Unfortunately, there's just too much of a risk to use it right now. I want to study it some more.''

''May I ask you a personal question Rebecca?''

The dark-haired woman looked at her suspiciously. ''You can ask...but I don't have to answer.''

''What made you join the S.T.A.R.S all those years ago? I mean, you could have gone anywhere, _done anything_, why chose them?''

''I guess I wanted to help people.''

''But don't you think you could have done so much more? I mean, you could have been involved in pharmacological research that could have saved thousands of lives.''

''There's more than one way to help people Elisabeth. What you really want to know is why I didn't end up working for a company like Umbrella, right?''

''Yes. You're exactly the kind of person they look for. I'm surprised they didn't approach you.''

''Oh, they did, but they never impressed me.''

_Perhaps we're not so alike after all_ Elisabeth thought.

''So...'' Rebecca began. ''Why did you come down here? I'm sure you didn't come to discuss my career choices.'' she smiled.

''I want you to...check me out. I want to know if I am completely normal.''

''Normal? None of us are normal! Look, I've read everything that's in that file. You're genetically engineered to be intelligent, athletic, resistant to disease and infection...it's totally illegal of course, but it's been possible to achieve this for a long time. You're probably as close as we've come to having a perfect human being.''

''They designed me, _made me_, to fit in with their needs. It was no coincidence I went to work for Umbrella. They were merely collecting their investment.''

''They only designed your body Elisabeth. They had nothing to do with your mind, or your conscience.''

''I know, I can't use it as an excuse, but I need to know that they didn't do something else to me. I just have this feeling...''

''Okay, I'll run some blood and DNA tests. But I don't think it's going to tell us anything we don't already know.''

''I know them Rebecca. I'm sure there is something else.''

''Well if there is, we'll find it.''

''Thank you. I really appreciate it.''

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Chris Redfield was sat at the desk in his office. He was talking to the face of General Keller on his laptop. The image on the screen and the voice were just out of synch.

''Are you sure about this Chris?''

''Yes sir. The ship should dock any day now. We're trying to find out where exactly. We've been able to track its movements up to Alaska where it docked about four weeks ago.''

General Keller slowly nodded his head with its characteristic grey hair and creviced face. ''Your mission is to disable the ship and neutralise any hostiles. You must keep it there until I arrive. We need evidence, not a pile of ashes.''

''Yes sir.''

''Chris, you are not to go after Wesker. Not yet.''

''What?'' he replied, incredulous.

''Your priority is to disable the ship until we get there. We won't come in without your signal.'' The General obviously noted Chris's look of disgust. ''Look, we lost track of Wesker a long time ago and we have no idea who he's working for now, and what he's up to. _If_ he turns up, you _will_ let him go - he'll lead us to whoever he's working for.''

Chris laughed. ''You really think he's stupid enough to let you follow him? General, we have to take him out if we get the opportunity.''

''I understand how you feel Chris, but I've told you before. I didn't reform the S.T.A.R.S for you to fulfil a revenge fantasy.''

''That's not what this is and you know it. The longer he's out there, the more people will die!''

''You're no match for him Chris.''

''Maybe not, but I'm not alone this time.''

The General put his head in his hands, frustrated. ''I have to answer to people too. Wesker is not to be killed. Do you understand?''

Chris gritted his teeth. ''Yes, _sir._''

''How long until Valentine is operational again?'' the General asked, making it clear by changing the subject that his orders were set and Chris was to follow them.

Chris hesitated, slightly disorientated by Keller's change in direction. ''She's...err...doing well. Maybe a few weeks.''

''Does she remember anything?''

''No, nothing before the..._incident_.''

''Keep me up-to-date on her condition. I want to know if she remembers anything you consider important.''

''I will.''

''One more thing.''

''Yes?''

''Take care Chris.''

The General's image flickered and the screen went blank. A moment later, the door to Chris's office burst open. Stood in the doorway were Leon Kennedy and his sister, Claire. They were both panting - it looked like they had been running.

''We've found it!'' Leon said, unable to hide his excitement.

Leon strode across the office to Chris, and thrust a piece of paper into his hand. Chris quickly scanned the text on the white page.

''It's the communication log for the Methuselah for the last twenty four hours.''

''How did you get this?''

''Claire managed to access the coastguard transmissions.'' Leon turned his head sideways and gave Claire an admiring glance. ''They've asked for permission to dock. Tomorrow morning, 2AM.''

Chris smiled. ''This is it Leon.''

Leon nodded in agreement. ''Yeah. This is what we've been waiting for.''

''We've found a series of emails between Wesker and a lab worker called Joseph Barnes. There's something on the ship that Wesker wants, and he's going to get it personally.'' Claire added.

''Do you know what it could be? Is there a bio-organic weapon onboard?''

''It's a possibility. He wouldn't surface unless it was something important.''

''I agree.'' Chris nodded. ''Leon, Claire - how do you fancy going for a swim?''


	11. Chapter 11 Hell and consequences

Disclaimer: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters, I am just a fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. Apologies to all for taking _ages_ to update - I'm just glad you came back and are reading this! I've just been so busy with work and had a few weekends away so not had the time t type this up. I promise to update soon!

**Chapter 11 Hell and Consequences**

Jill was sitting on the armchair in her room in the medical wing. She was staring across the room towards the single window and out into blackness while nervously tapping her foot. They had been gone for several hours now and she had no idea how the mission was progressing. As always, they maintained radio silence with S.T.A.R.S headquarters while on a mission unless there was an emergency.

Jill shifted awkwardly in her seat. She could feel a large, uncomfortable knot in her stomach. In her head, she was replaying the last conversation she had had with Chris in his office before he left with Claire, Leon, Carlos, Rebecca and Elisabeth a few hours ago.

_''You're just going after him, aren't you?'' she asked gently, looking directly into his eyes. Chris was unable to hold her gaze._

_''We're going to disable the ship and neutralize any threat until Keller's men get there.'' Chris replied in an emotionless, monotone voice as he looked down at his desk, unconsciously rubbing his index finger along a deep scratch on the surface that looked like it was made with a sharp knife._

To Jill, it had sounded like a rehearsed answer. She knew Chris well enough to know when he wasn't being completely honest with her.

_''I know you Chris. Why are you still doing this to yourself?''_

_Chris stood up sharply, pushing his chair back with such force that it toppled over and crashed against the back wall of his office. He walked towards the single framed picture on the wall near the door. He yanked the picture frame from the wall, and the small metal tack from which it hung was tore from the concrete and flew across the room._

_''This is why!'' he replied harshly as he slammed the picture down on his desk in front of Jill so hard that the glass broke. Jill flinched. ''I'm...I'm sorry.'' he said. ''But you know why I have to do this. You were there.''_

Jill had looked at the picture many times. It was an old newspaper article about the original S.T.A.R.S - it was their first day on the job in Raccoon City and there had been a media frenzy, driven by a mayor desperate for re-election. It was probably one of the happiest days of her life. There hadn't been many happy days after that - for any of them. Most of the people on the photograph were now dead - killed in the mansion incident up in the Arklay Mountains all those years ago. She missed them too - they were friends as well as colleagues, but to Chris, keeping the image on the wall seemed almost like a symbol of his failures. Jill felt it was there to remind Chris how he had horribly misjudged Albert Wesker and how, as the pointman, he had failed to protect his team. It was nonsense of course. Jill knew that there really was nothing he could have done differently. In fact, if he had done anything differently, he, and countless others, might not be alive today. It was only his excellence as a soldier that had kept him alive this long.

_''Are you willing to sacrifice your life, your sister's life, to get to him?''_

_''No one else can do it.'' he whispered sadly._

_''I know how you feel Chris, I really do, but if you go on this mission with the sole intention of getting him, then...''_

_''Then what?''_

_''He nearly killed you Chris!'' Jill replied, exasperated. ''He nearly killed Claire. The next time it might not be nearly.''_

_''I know Jill, but I have to do this...'' His voice cracked. ''I owe it to them.''_

_''Listen to me. Wesker wouldn't surface unless there was a good reason to do so. Paying off some low level 'informant' doesn't sound like a good enough reason to me.''_

_Chris scooped up the picture frame and carefully began to remove the broken pieces of glass, putting them in a small waste paper bin sat on the floor next to his desk. He looked at the photo inside the picture frame. ''We're the last ones left Jill - you, me, Rebecca...we're the last ones.''_

Jill sighed at the memory. She had been good friends with Chris for well over ten years now, and in that time, she had witnessed practically every facet of his personality - from the gifted pilot and seasoned special forces operative, to the fiercely loyal friend and gentle, protective brother. He was a born leader and a determined, honourable man, but with that came obsession. His obsession with bringing down Umbrella, Wesker and the countless other villainous characters that they had encountered over the years, sometimes made him act irrationally with scant regard for his own well being. Jill knew this obsession of his could be manipulated, which is why she was particularly concerned about this mission and the involvement of Albert Wesker.

With an effort, Jill pushed herself up from the armchair and tentatively walked a few steps across to the window. Her mobility was improving quickly, and the muscle spasms were becoming more infrequent. She pressed her face against the cold glass. It was pitch black outside, but she could just make out a large open space on the grass behind the medical wing that normally acted as a make-shift landing site for the S.T.A.R.S helicopter. She turned to face the bed. She was wide awake - there was no way she could sleep until her friends returned. Safely. She slipped on some trainers and a sweatshirt that were stowed in the drawer by the door, and quietly slipped out of the room into the dark corridor.

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Chris Redfield, Elisabeth Badley and Rebecca Chambers were crouched within waist-high, dead and dying vegetation behind a ramshackle building. Chris's head was poking around the decrepit old building as he surveyed the surroundings.

''Can you see any security?'' Rebecca whispered. The fine cloud of frozen breath in front of her face and patches of frost on the ground were the only indicators of the cold spring temperature.

Chris shook his head. ''I don't see anyone.'' he replied. It looks like the ship's emergency lights are on though. That can't be good.'' he sighed.

Even though he was whispering, Rebecca could detect the anxiety in his voice. She glanced across at Elisabeth who was confidently holding a sub-machine gun identical to her own. The comfortable way she held the weapon made her uneasy. Rebecca was surprised at Chris's decision to arm her, particularly considering the fact that less than a week ago she was locked in the cells and under armed guard. He had told her that she would be more use to them on this mission with a gun, but she didn't really understand why Elisabeth was here this time. She claimed _not_ to have intimate knowledge of the ship, and they hadn't come to retrieve data, so she didn't understand what her role was to be. Leon, Claire and Carlos had similar misgivings, but supposed Chris knew what he was doing so didn't question his decision.

Chris was looking through a pair of night-sight binoculars at the large ship with a blue painted bough moored at the docks less than one hundred metres in front of where they were crouched. The ship had a large mast, upon which was attached an antenna and satellite dish. Even through the pale moonlight, Chris could make out a black figure slowly but assuredly climbing the mast. When the figure reached the antenna, it paused for a while.

''Carlos is planting the EMP device.'' Chris said. ''Not long now.''

Chris then changed his focus to an area on the quayside approximately fifty metres from the ship. He looked on as two black figures emerged from the sea, pulled themselves up onto the wooden pontoon and then darted for cover among a series of homogenous metal storage crates haphazardly piled several meters high on the concrete quayside.

Chris tapped the small radio that was attached to his right ear. ''Leon, Claire, come in.''

There was a brief hiss of radio static, followed by Leon's voice. ''We've planted the charges on the propeller and rudder.'' he paused. ''The charges will detonate in...one minute.''

''I hope you didn't overdo it. We don't want to sink it.''

''Like you said Chris, just a small explosion to incapacitate the ship...'' Claire replied.

''Good. Get out of those scuba suits and make your way to the rendezvous point. Carlos is planting the EMP.''

''Got that. See you soon Chris. Leon out.''

There was another cackle of radio static, this time followed by Carlos's voice.

''Chris, come in.''

''Carlos - is the EMP attached?''

''Yes.'' Carlos paused. ''You have sixty seconds on my mark. Make sure you radio's are off otherwise the electromagnetic pulse is going to fry them.''

''On your mark Carlos.'' Chris replied as he looked at his wrist watch.

''Three, two, one...mark.''

''We'll meet you at the rendezvous point.''

''See you there. Carlos out.''

Chris then turned off his radio. He turned to face Elisabeth. ''Let's go.''

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Excluding a small number of guards who were systematically patrolling the dark corridors, the S.T.A.R.S building seemed deserted. Normally brilliant and white during the day, the corridors were now grey and somewhat unfamiliar to Jill. She made her way to the operations room. She pushed open the door and switched on the light. It took her eyes a moment to readjust to the bright fluorescent strip lights that lit the room.

_''You're not alone Chris.''_

_''Most of the time, I feel like I am.''_

Chris's words had stung Jill. For as long as she could remember, she had always been there - both as a friend and ally in the field. But over the years he had become progressively more distant as he became consumed by his desire to find Wesker.

Jill sat down at one of the computer terminals and noticed an open notebook. She immediately recognised Claire's delicate scrawl. At the top of the page was written the words 'Mexico' and 'Methuselah'. The two words were connected by an arrow and a question mark.

''Methuselah.'' she whispered to herself as she began to rock gently backwards and forwards, her hands tightly clasped.

Jill then noticed a number of folders containing print-outs of documents and photographs scattered across the desk. Claire must have been looking through them. Thumbing through the pages, she didn't quite know what she was looking for - maybe something useful, or even familiar. She then came across a photograph of a ship. At first glance, it looked like a drilling vessel. It wasn't a particularly large ship, maybe two or three hundred feet. Underneath the picture, Claire had written 'Methuselah' in capital letters.

Jill stared at the picture. She knew this was where they had gone tonight. It felt familiar. She had no memory of it - but another sense told her she had been onboard. Suddenly she felt queasy. She grabbed onto the side of the desk for stability as the room span around her in a blur. Taking a deep breath, she stood up quickly and tried to make for the door, but her legs gave way and she slid to the floor. The room disappeared into blackness.

_Jill was running along a corridor lined by a series of bifurcating metal pipes. The air was stale and smelt of diesel. An alarm had been raised - repetitive and high-pitched - and the corridor was periodically lit by a soft, flashing red light. Almost hidden under the sound of the alarm was the gentle rhythmic hum of an engine._

_She was moving quickly. Her breathing was fast and shallow. There were terrifying screams in the distance, followed by the sound of breaking glass and metal grinding against metal. A heavy door was flung open a few metres in front of her, the crash of the door against the metal pipes reverberated along the corridor. Jill darted into a small recess and squeezed into a small space behind the pipes. There was a heavy thud against the pipes. She held her breath and slowly pulled herself forwards, sliding on her knees as there wasn't enough space to stand. There was the broken body of a young-looking man wearing a white lab coat curled on the metal grille floor. As Jill got closer, she peered between the pipes and realised that the front of his white coat was stained red. On the floor below him was a slowly expanding pool of blood that was oozing from a deep gash across his neck. His left arm was bent back upon itself; his eyes were open and glassy, staring straight at her. His lips quivered - he looked like he was trying to speak but no sound escaped. There was another gargled scream, and a body - this time a woman with long black hair - crashed like a rag doll against the metal pipes right in front of Jill. She flinched as her face and chest were covered with a fine mist of the woman's blood. _

_An amorphous figure slowly emerged through the open metal door, casting a long shadow across the floor. Jill froze, holding her breath and fighting the urge to heave as metallic-tasting blood trickled down her face and into the corners of her mouth. She was now crouched in an uncomfortable position that made her thighs and calves burn. The corridor was now deathly silent except for the gentle, rhythmic dripping of blood through the open spaces in the metal grille floor. The figure in the corridor glided towards the scientists' bodies that were twitching as the last vestiges of life drained away. It crouched, seemingly inspecting them, and for the first time Jill could see discern its features in the spaces between the pipes. She gasped, and then quickly clasped her hand across her mouth. The figure jerked and switched its attention towards Jill's position. A hand covered in bloody residue suddenly shot between the pipes and grabbed Jill's t-shirt. She pulled herself as far back and away from the pipes as she could, although the hand's grip was firm and her t-shirt began to tear. A second hand attacked, and grasping her by her neck, wrenched her forwards. Her head crashed against metal and exploded with pain._

''Jill! Jill Valentine!'' a panic stricken voice was calling.

Jill stirred.

''Are you okay? I was on security detail and came in here to see why the lights were on. I found you like this...you were crying out...I thought someone was being attacked.''

Jill slowly opened her eyes and began to focus on the concerned-looking figure crouched over her. It was a young man (whom she didn't recognise) wearing a black S.T.A.R.S uniform and an extremely concerned look on his face.

She sat up. ''I...I must have passed out for a second.'' she said groggily.

''Are you okay? Do you want me to get a medic?''

Jill stared into space. Then her head snapped up. ''Oh God, there's a weapon on that ship.'' She suddenly grabbed the young man's arm, making him jump. She looked directly at him. ''We have to warn them.''

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

''Where's Rebecca?'' Claire asked as she crouched down next to Chris behind some metal crates situated on an area of the quayside that was directly in front of the entrance ramp to the Methuselah. Leon crouched next to her a few moments later.

''She's hanging back for the time being. We need some eyes on the shore. Elisabeth and I are going inside to find Barnes.''

Claire looked questioningly at Chris.

''I know who Joseph Barnes is.'' Elisabeth quickly interjected, sensing Claire's confusion. ''I've...I've worked with him. He's a geneticist too.''

''Claire, Leon, Carlos - I want you to secure the quayside.'' Chris said, checking his weapon. ''Carlos - I hope the ankle's okay now.''

''It's good as new. Rebecca can work wonders.''

Claire looked around her, shaking her head. ''Why was there no response to the EMP, or the charges we put on the propeller and rudder?''

''Whatever happened, it looks like we missed it.'' Leon added. ''It's just like the last mission...''

''Just give us ten minutes to check out the ship, and then you can signal Keller's men. They can take care of the rest.''

''Okay Chris.'' Claire nodded. ''Ten minutes.'' she added quietly. Claire knew he wasn't here on a mission for General Keller. He was looking for Barnes so he could get to Wesker and he didn't want Keller's men to intervene. Joseph Barnes was supposed to be meeting Wesker tonight, although Claire had a feeling that he was already gone.

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''SH-1, this is S.T.A.R.S. headquarters, come in. Over.''

The communications room in S.T.A.R.S. headquarters was filled with the piercing cackle of radio static.

''SH-1, this is S.T.A.R.S headquarters, come in. Over.''

Still Nothing. More static.

''SH-1...'' Jill's voice was becoming more desperate. ''...this is S.T.A.R.S headquarters, come in God damn it!'' She slammed her fists against the communication console in front of her. ''Is this thing even working anymore?'' she asked angrily as she grabbed and jerked the neck of the microphone.

''Err, Miss Valentine, they've probably used an EMP. It's likely that all their electronics are offline for a while as a precaution. They won't be able to pick up our satellite transmissions.''

Jill turned to face the young man in the S.T.A.R.S uniform. She should have known this. Had she forgotten her training already? ''There _must_ be some way we can contact them.''

The young man just looked at her apologetically, shrugging his shoulders. ''I'm sorry, but there isn't. You just have to wait for them to come back online. Keep trying.''

''They have to know what it is.'' Jill heaved a sigh. ''Before it's too late.''

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Elisabeth was standing on the Methuselah's deserted bridge in front of the navigation post. The bridge was dimly lit by a flashing red emergency light. She flicked a switch, turning on a small green screen.

''The power's still on.'' she said, scrolling through rows of data, her eyes flicking side to side. ''I wonder what tripped the lights.''

Chris was a metre or so behind her, looking at a detailed map of the ship that was attached to the wall. He traced the outline of rooms and corridors with his finger, quickly memorising the layout.

''What are you doing?'' he asked Elisabeth, not shifting his focus from the map.

''I'm just looking at where this ship has been.'' she replied. ''It was moored off Alaska for more than a week.''

''So?''

''They must have re-opened the facility there.''

''What do you mean _re-opened_? We razed that place to the ground, just before Siberia in 2003.''

''You never found the underground complex.''

Chris turned around slowly to face Elisabeth's back. ''There was no underground complex.'' he said slowly.

Elisabeth then turned to face him. ''Yes, there was. _Is_. That was where I was going before...''

''Oh, I get it. That's where you were selling your services before you got caught.'' Chris said sarcastically, shaking his head. ''Why haven't you mentioned this before?''

''I know of at five places in North America alone. Some of them are old Umbrella facilities that have gone _independent_; others...well, you know now that there are worse organisations out there now than Umbrella. Then there's at least the same number in Europe.''

''Why haven't you mentioned them before?'' he repeated.

''Because I knew that isn't what you're really interested in.''

''Yeah?'' Chris smirked. ''Tell me, what am I interested in?''

''You're just looking for him.''

''Him?''

''Wesker.''

Chris took a step forward so that he was standing closer to Elisabeth.

''You don't know me.'' he said slowly. ''You think you do, but you don't know anything about me.''

''I didn't mean anything by that, it's just that...''

Chris cut her off mid-sentence. ''Let's go. There's a stair just behind the bridge - it should get us to the lower levels. There's a large room immediately below us - I'm guessing this is the main lab. We'll start our search there. Follow me.''

Chris and Elisabeth had descended the metal stair from the bridge and found themselves within a long, dark corridor. Like the ship's bridge, it too was dimly lit by periodically flashing red lights situated under the metal grille floor. The walls were lined with metal pipes, some of which were steaming hot.

''It looks like this is the lab.'' Elisabeth whispered while gesturing towards a heavy metal door on the right hand side of the corridor.

Chris entered the room first, closely followed by Elisabeth. A waist-high bench ran along the centre of the room which was dimly lit by a number of refrigeration units on the far wall. Hundreds of small vials of red and blue liquid were stacked within the fridges.

Open folders and notebooks were scattered across the bench next to a laptop with a smashed screen. A number of the pages were creased or torn, and paragraphs had been highlighted or underlined with yellow fluorescent ink.

Elisabeth marched across to the bench. ''It looks like they were trying to replicate my research.'' she said a minute later, after skimming through some of the pages. ''But they couldn't get it _quite _right.'' she added, almost with an arrogant smirk.

''Yeah? So what's all this?'' Chris replied, gesturing to the hundreds of vials linearly aligned in the fridges.

''Look...'' Elisabeth said pointing to the far end of the lab where a narrow wooden door appeared to lead into another room.

Chris's eyes followed Elisabeth's pointing finger.

''Wait here.'' he ordered as he walked towards the door. He reached for the handle while readying his weapon. He pushed open the door, but it would only open a little way.

''There's something blocking the door...'' he said as he began to push harder. Eventually whatever was jamming the door appeared to give way enough for Chris to be able to squeeze through the gap.

It was a small office, perhaps only a couple of metres across. There was a small wooden desk, upon which was situated a personal computer. Next to the computer was a silver-framed photograph of a young man and woman. In between them was the smiling face of a young child - a girl with long blond hair arranged in ringlets. Chris looked down. The figure of the man in the photograph was slumped against the wall. It was his legs that had prevented Chris from opening the door. He knelt down next to the body.

''I told you to wait in there.'' Chris said without shifting his focus from the man. Elisabeth had squeezed through the gap and was now standing behind Chris.

She shrugged. ''Is he dead?''

''His neck's severely bruised. It looks like he was strangled.'' Chris said while reaching forward to feel the man's pulse. Suddenly the man's arms sprung up and grabbed Chris's wrists. The man's eyes, now red from the burst blood vessels, were wide open. Chris yelped with shock and lurched backwards, but the man clung on, and ended up lying on top of him.

''Don't...let...take...her.'' the man said, foaming at the mouth, his face inches from Chris's.

Chris pushed the man off him. He scurried backwards and pushed himself to his feet.

''Don't...let...take...her...don't...trust.'' the man repeated before he emitted a deep sigh and his body went limp.

''Chris - that's Joseph Barnes.''

Chris felt for a pulse. ''Dammit.'' Chris muttered. ''What was he talking about? Don't let _him_ take _who_? Is he talking about Wesker?''

Chris grabbed the dead man's shirt collar and pulled him a few inches off the ground. ''Who are you talking about? Wesker? Did you mean Wesker? Answer me!'' he demanded as he shook the man's inert body.

Elisabeth tapped Chris's shoulder.

''Stop.'' she whispered. ''Listen.''

Chris looked at her quizzically. ''What?''

Elisabeth put her finger to her lips. ''Shhhh.'' she closed her eyes and slowly tilted her head. ''I can hear something.''

Chris tilted his head. Above the gentle hum of the engine, he could hear a sound too. ''It sounds like someone..._crying_.''

She nodded. ''This way.'' she pointed to the wall. ''I think it's coming from the next room.''

''Stay behind me.'' Chris whispered, as he released Joseph Barnes's body which then hit the floor with a thump. They walked back through the lab and out into the corridor. The metal grille beneath their feet seemed to become progressively softer and slightly sticky. Even through the red tinged emergency light, Chris could see a clear trail of blood on the floor that led into the next room just ahead of them. He turned to get Elisabeth's attention and pointed to the floor with his free hand. She followed his fingers, her eyes widening.

They were suddenly hit by a strong, putrid smell. Chris swallowed hard and Elisabeth gagged as she put her hand to her mouth. She knew that smell now. She knew what lay ahead of them.

Slowly, they edged carefully forwards along the blood trail and into the room. The emergency lights only lit the main corridors, so it was too dark to see anything inside. Chris reached for his flashlight and pointed it into the darkness. The diffuse circle of light emanating from the flashlight swept across the blackness, partially illuminating what appeared to be a recreation room. On one wall was a darts board. On the back wall was a shelving unit with stacks of books, magazines and dvd's. Furniture was overturned, broken and displaced - it looked like there had been a fight.

Chris suddenly detected a flicker of movement in the corner of his left eye. He pointed the flashlight towards a table in the left corner of the room. Curled up under the table was the small shivering figure of a child with it's head buried in it's hands. It appeared to be a girl with matted, long blond hair.

Elisabeth slowly approached the girl. As she got closer to the table, she crouched.

''Hey.'' she said gently, as she removed her finger from the trigger of her weapon and pushed it out of sight behind her back. ''It's okay, everything's going to be alright. We're going to get you out of here.'' she said softly, holding up her hands for the child to see.

The child stopped whimpering at the sound of Elisabeth's voice. She walked closer, slowly and deliberately, trying not to slip on the wet surface. It was then that she noticed the girl's clothes were covered with blood.

''Are you hurt? Did somebody hurt you?''

Elisabeth was within a metre of the child when she paused. Slowly, the girl's head moved upwards and turned slightly to face to Elisabeth. Her face looked _wrong_. Her alabaster skin was crossed by numerous blue, pulsating veins. Her white lips were stained red. The girl's eyes snapped open - they were glowing red. Her face seemed to contort into an evil cherubic smile. She tensed and then sprung forwards towards Elisabeth, screaming manically, her talon-like hands stretched out in front of her. Elisabeth dived, but she felt something scrape her arm. She cried out while rolling onto her side, clutching her shoulder.

The girl sprang to her feet and stared at Chris. She hissed.

''Stop!'' Chris shouted as he realised he wasn't looking into the face of a child. It was a monster. He fired, and the girl instantly fell to the ground.

''Elisabeth!'' he shouted, still pointing his weapon at the child who was lying face down in a growing pool of her own blood. ''Are you okay?''

''I'm fine.'' she grunted through gritted teeth, holding her upper arm that was now bleeding profusely.

''Let me look at that.'' he said, moving across to Elisabeth.

''Chris! She..._it's_ gone!''

Chris spun around to see the place where the child's body had lay moments before. All that remained was a large pool of semi-coagulated blood.

''Dammit!'' he spat.

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Leon was slowly walking along the starboard side of the ship, his sub-machine gun poised. He casually glanced across to the port side where he caught a glimpse of Claire moving nimble and cat-like between a number of overturned cargo boxes. At that exact same moment, she looked across at Leon. As their eyes met, she looked away quickly and then purposefully moved out of sight. Leon smirked and shook his head.

''You're as complicated as your brother.'' he thought aloud.

It was ominously quiet. Even for a port many miles outside of any population centre, it was too quiet. There was no sign of the ship's crew - although a half eaten sandwich and tepid cup of coffee resting on a ledge indicated a recent human presence.

As Leon progressed, something golden caught his eye beneath one of the lifeboats. One of the metal pulley's that secured it had been released and the front of the boat, now splintered and broken, was lying up-ended on the deck. Leon reached forwards and picked up what appeared to be a gold watch. He turned it over in his hand and noticed traces of blood along the worn leather strap. Then he looked forwards to the broken end of the lifeboat and noted a small but steadily growing pool of blood. Warily, he looked all around him and rose to his feet. He then pushed back the heavy tarpaulin that partially covered the top of the lifeboat.

''Oh God.'' he whispered as he looked down and closed his eyes. ''Claire...'' he said as he tapped his earpiece. ''Be careful. There's someone...something...here.''

''What is it?'' Claire replied.

''I've just found the crew. Well, parts of them anyway.''

''Great.'' Claire replied. ''I thought this was going to be...''

''Claire - what is it? Claire?''

''We've got company. By the coastguard post. There's a boat.''

Leon looked across the ship's stern in the distance - perhaps less than fifty metres - where he could discern a number of black figures disembarking a speedboat that was partially hidden by the concrete coastguard building on the quayside. The black figures proceeded to run in the direction of the ship.

''I see them. It looks like there are at least ten...''

''I didn't hear the boat...we should have heard it.''

''We weren't supposed to Claire. This was a trap.''

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''Are you okay?'' Chris asked Elisabeth who was struggling, one-handed, to wrap a bandage around the open wound on her arm. ''Let me finish that.'' he said, as he took the bandage from her hand and pulled it tight, jolting her arm.

Elisabeth just stared straight ahead. ''That was a child. It was just a child.''

''You seem surprised.''

''I know I shouldn't be, but... but it's a _child_ for Christ's sake!''

Chris tapped his radio.

''Leon, Claire. Come in.''

''Chris...'' It was Claire. Her voice was muffled, drowned out by the sound of gunfire. ''We're taking fire...can't talk...need your help...''

''Claire, I need you to listen to me. There's something coming your way. It looks like a girl, a young girl.''

''There's a girl?'' Claire's voice was barely audible. Chris could hear Leon shouting in the background.

''No! It's a bioweapon. It _looks_ like a girl! Claire! Can you read me?''

''Chris...can't hear you...help...''

Claire was gone. Chris reached out his arm towards Elisabeth who then grabbed his hand.

''We've got to go. Right now.'' he ordered as he pulled her to her feet.

Elisabeth nodded. Chris led the way as they ran out of the recreation room and back along the corridor.

''I don't get this.'' Elisabeth began. ''I mean, why would they show up now?''

They stopped as they reached the metal stair that led to the bridge. As Chris began to climb the stair, he half turned and looked down to face Elisabeth who was just a few steps below him, reaching for the handrail. ''I knew it was too qui...''

Chris didn't finish his sentence. He felt a sharp blow to the front of his head. He reached out desperately to the handrail for support as he tumbled backwards, almost in slow motion, smashing into Elisabeth on the way down. When he regained his senses, he was lying at the bottom of the stair on the hard metallic floor, looking upward. Everything was out of focus. His ears were ringing.

''Chris Redfield.'' A disembodied voice said slowly and calmly. ''So nice to see you again.''


	12. Chapter 12 Schism

Disclaimer: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters, I am just a fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. Unfortunately the words got away with me again and this chapter is way to long, but I didn't want to spread this part of the story over three chapters because that would just be boring! You'll have R&R and let me know what you think. Just a warning - there's nothing warm and festive in this chapter!

**Chapter 12 Schism**

Chris groaned and sat up slowly. He shook his head as his eyes focussed on the figure that was now standing at the bottom of the stair directly in front of him. He pushed himself to his feet, stumbling at first, but then quickly regaining his balance.

''Wesker.'' he snarled, straightening up slowly while surreptitiously looking for his weapon that he had dropped when he had been kicked down the metal stair. He spotted it half in shadow under a pipe by the wall.

Chris studied the man standing in front of him. Albert Wesker looked no different from when he had last seen him nearly five years ago during an operation to destroy one of Umbrella's last remaining facilities in Siberia. In fact, he hadn't aged a day. Wesker was taller than Chris, with a slim but athletic physique, hollow cheeks and cropped, meticulously styled blond hair. Even though it was dark, he was wearing sunglasses. As always, his chin was held arrogantly high. Time hadn't lessened his vanity, Chris thought.

''I would love to talk about old times, but...'' Chris reached up for the knife that was sheathed by his chest. He grabbed the handle, yanked it free and threw it towards Wesker, while rolling forward towards his gun that was still lying inert on the floor. Wesker casually stepped aside as the knife passed him by and hit the metal stair with a high pitched, metallic ring that echoed down the corridor. Chris picked up his gun and rolled onto his feet so that he was standing directly in front of Wesker, their chests almost touching. He repeatedly fired his weapon point blank into Wesker's chest. Wesker stumbled backwards and grabbed onto the stair handrail for support. He doubled over and began to cough and moan, but the moan quickly turned into a harsh laugh. He straightened up and grabbed the steaming barrel, wrenching the weapon out of Chris's hands. He threw it down the corridor and smiled cruelly, simultaneously shaking his head and wagging his index finger from side to side.

''I thought we had learned by now Redfield.'' he smirked. ''I am better than you.''

Chris went to step backwards to put some distance between Wesker and himself, but a moment later he was lying face down, clinging to the metal grille floor. The pain in his jaw told him he had received a hefty blow. There was a foul metallic taste in his mouth and he spat out a mixture of saliva and blood. Wesker then grabbed Chris by his vest and heaved him up against the wall, knocking the air out of his lungs. Chris wheezed. His legs kicked wildly, but they were either unable to connect or unable to land anything other than a glancing blow. Wesker then effortlessly threw him across the corridor and through the door to the lab. Chris landed heavily on his back on the cold metal lab bench in the centre of the room, knocking away the laptop and papers, and breaking a number of glass beakers. He rolled onto his front, the glass shards cutting into the bare skin on his hands as he scrambled along the surface.

''You know, there's something I've noticed Chris.'' Wesker's voice echoed along the corridor as his heavy, deliberate footsteps approached.

Chris's arms were unable to hold his weight and he collapsed onto his chest on the bench. ''Yeah, what?'' he snarled as again, he pushed himself up to his hands and knees.

''All of our reunions are so... '' Wesker was then standing next to the bench, crouching so that he could look directly into Chris's eyes. ''..._ emotional_.'' he finished after a dramatic pause, removing his sunglasses. His inhuman eyes shone red with excitement.

Wesker then dragged Chris off the bench and threw him against the row of refrigeration units on the back wall. The glass broke, and Chris became swamped in vials of blue and red fluid. He glanced up to see Wesker walking around the perimeter of the bench and slowly towards him, savouring every moment. This whole scenario felt ominously familiar.

''Wesker!'' a voice shouted from the corridor. It was Elisabeth.

Wesker's attention was diverted away from Chris. ''Dr Elisabeth Badley. It would seem recent reports of your demise have been greatly exaggerated.'' Wesker spoke with a sardonic tone. ''It is always a shame to lose one's investments.''

She had retrieved Chris's gun from the corridor, and was now pointing it at Wesker, her finger poised on the trigger.

''That's all I ever was - an _investment_?''

Wesker shrugged and smiled, cocking his head to the side.

''You son of a bitch!'' She whispered, her finger pressed the trigger. There was a strange muffled sound and the gun recoiled, painfully jolting her arm. She tried to reload, but the mechanism was jammed, rendering the weapon useless.

''Damn it!'' She threw the gun to the floor and removed a knife that was sheathed around her ankle. Wesker merely watched Elisabeth with interest as she ran towards him.

''No - Elisabeth - don't!'' Chris shouted. As good as she was, he knew that Wesker would surely kill her.

Elisabeth raised the knife as she ran, but Wesker grabbed her wrist with ease and squeezed hard.

''Arrrrgh!'' she cried out, trying to pull herself free, but his grip was firm. He continued to squeeze her wrist until she let go of the knife. With her other flailing hand, she grabbed his hair and pulled. This unorthodox move seemed to shock Wesker, who then roughly twisted her arm behind her back until there was a terrible crunching sound. Elisabeth wailed and dropped to her knees.

''I have no time for this nonsense.'' he said, dismissing Chris and Elisabeth with a casual wave. ''Your part is finished, for now.'' He then looked at Chris, fixing him with his fiery stir. ''I have to go and collect my prize, now that that fool Barnes has released it for me.''

Wesker turned to leave the room.

''This isn't over!'' Chris shouted to Wesker's back, pushing himself free of the glass and metal debris from the refrigeration unit. ''Don't you turn your back on me! I said this isn't over!''

''Oh, this is far from over.'' Wesker sneered over his shoulder. ''Give my regards to Jill and your sister.''

And with that, Wesker was gone.

Elisabeth was doubled over on her knees on the floor, whimpering as she rubbed her wrist that was red and already beginning to swell. She then looked down at the clump of blond hair lying on the floor next to her. The corners of her mouth creased upwards into a subtle smile.

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Claire was crouched, re-loading her weapon, beside a large metal container on the deck of the Methuselah. She flinched and crouched lower as a bullet hit the container merely inches from her head. Another bullet hit the lock and the container door slowly swung open, the rusting hinge creakingloudly.

''I think I preferred it ominously quiet.'' she muttered to herself as she shuffled a few metres to the far side of the container. She then lay on her stomach and pulled herself forwards, trying to spot the soldier who was firing at her from somewhere on the quayside. Sparks from the assailant's gun gave away his position in the dark. She aimed and fired. The soldier's head jerked backwards, but he seemed to hang in the air for a second before he fell to the floor.

''Got ya!'' she whispered triumphantly.

She watched for a while, waiting for the soldier to get back up. To her relief, he didn't.

Pressing her back to the container, she scrambled around its perimeter towards the open door. A large white notice pasted on the door read 'Scientific Equipment - Cleared by Customs'. Emblazoned on the notice was an official red customs stamp. Claire looked inside. It was dark, so she flicked on her flashlight. Her eyes widened at what she saw.

''Oh...my...God...'' she breathed, walking into the container. Piled inside were rows of shotguns, machine guns, sniper rifles, grenades, mines... The sight made Claire shiver. ''How the hell did this get through customs?'' she said to herself.

She tapped her radio. ''Leon.''

''Claire...'' Even though Leon was less than two hundred feet away on the other end of the ship, the radio signal was weak. Still, in the background, Claire could hear the sound of bullets ricocheting off metal and burying themselves into wood.

''I'm in the container on the deck.''

''Yeah - I see it.'' Leon replied. ''Be careful you don't get trapped in there.''

''I've found an arsenal in here. They could kit-up a small army.''

''Anything useful?'' he joked. ''I'm having a little trouble.'' There was the sound of bullets whizzing by, followed by Leon cursing under his breath.

''Leon - I'm serious.''

''So am I! Okay, okay. We'd better secure it. Make sure Keller has something to look at when he gets here. Hang tight Claire. I've got things under control over here. I'm going to move back across to the quayside.''

''There's something wrong with the comms. I think something in the ship is interfering with the signal - your signal is really weak.'' Claire said while venturing further into the container.

''Yes - I've noticed.'' he paused ''Claire...''

''Yeah..?'' she said, sounding detached as she skimmed over a number of small metal crates on the floor with her flashlight. 'US Army' was stamped on the side. She opened the clasps on the closest crate.

''Don't take any risks.'' Leon said, suddenly sounding serious. ''Claire - are you still there?''

''Yes, I mean no, I won't.'' She was only half listening while rooting through pieces of foam in the metal box. She found a number of incendiary grenades. Picking a couple of them up, she attached them to her utility belt. It was only then that she noticed Leon was gone.

She tentatively walked back out of the container onto the deck and was greeted by a volley of gunfire. She dived for cover behind the swinging container door as a perfect arc of circular holes appeared inches above her head. She inched to the left, but bullets tore into the deck by her feet. She quickly pulled in her legs and inched in the opposite direction. More bullets tore into the deck.

''I've got you covered Claire.'' It was Carlos's voice over the radio. ''I see two of them. I can take them out from here.''

There were two short, controlled bursts of semi-automatic gun fire.

''Claire - you're all clear. I think there's another one level with you on the quayside, just in the tree line. I can't get a clear shot, you'll have to deal with him.''

''Okay Carlos, thanks.''

''Another speedboat has just turned up - looks like the cat's out of the bag. I think I can see at least eight more.''

''Great. Carlos - where are you?''

''I'm up above the bridge.''

Claire looked across the deck and she could just make out his dark outline against the ship's mast - a perfect sniping position. At the other end of the ship, Claire could just discern Leon's frame, crouching between the wreckage of two lifeboats that had been detached from their ropes and had crashed down on the deck. Periodically, he stood up and fired towards the quayside. For a moment, she watched him. His physical strength and confidence were apparent even from this distance. For just a moment, she wanted to be alone with him. Alone in a _normal_ situation - maybe having a coffee in a diner or a drink in a bar - anywhere that was far away from the S.T.A.R.S. She shook the thought out of her head. It was for just this reason that she had resisted taking things with Leon any further, even though she desperately wanted to. She knew that if they ever got too close, they would put everyone - including themselves - in more danger. She also remembered Jill's words to her a few days ago.

_''I know the risks, every mission we go on, we know it might be our last. There are things going on here that are more important than me, you, Chris…we have to accept that.''_

In the field, her mind must be on the mission, and the mission alone. She wasn't important. She couldn't be concerned with a lover's wellbeing and vice versa. Claire clearly remembered the pain of losing Steve all those years ago. She would do anything to never have to experience that again. By accepting her role in S.T.A.R.S, she had to forego having anything for herself. No, she didn't like it, but she believed it was the best way - the _only_ way - to protect herself. Chris seemed to have accepted it - in fact, he seemed to have embraced the concept. Maybe that explains why he was so miserable.

Claire was snapped out of her reverie by movement in the corner of her eye - a white blur that moved across the deck without sound, almost ghost-like. She snapped her head around to see a child. It was a girl with long matted hair, running off the ship onto the quayside. Within seconds, she was being chased by the soldier hidden in the vegetation. Even though his radio message was garbled, Chris had said there was a child. This must be her.

Claire tapped her radio. ''Leon, Carlos, Chris...come in.''

Heavy fire engulfed the other side of the ship. Claire realised they probably couldn't hear her.

''Chris? Rebecca?''

No response.

''Leon!'' Claire shouted as loud as she could, but she was unable to get her voice to carry over the sound of machine gun fire. ''Leon!'' she repeated, exasperated. ''There's a girl, a child! Leon!''

He didn't respond. She couldn't let them get that little girl, no matter what. She took one last look at Leon and decided to give chase.

She was not going to let them hurt her.

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''Chris - are you okay?'' Elisabeth asked. She was still on her knees on the floor, cradling her right arm.

Chris groaned. ''I'm alright.'' he mumbled as he pushed himself onto his feet. He cursed as he stumbled forwards with the momentum, crashing into the lab bench. ''What about you?''

''It's just my arm...'' she grimaced. ''He must have come for the girl.'' she said over her shoulder to Chris who was now taking deep heavy breaths. She could tell he was in pain as he winced with every inhalation. ''Are you sure you're okay? You don't look too good.''

''I'm just winded.'' he coughed, and a fine mist of blood descended on the lab bench. '' I need to catch my breath.''

''I think she was Joseph Barnes's daughter. I mean, she looked like the girl in the photograph on his desk.''

''Yeah...'' Chris coughed again. ''I think you're right.''

''What would make someone do that to their own child? I mean, turn them into a monster? What could Wesker have offered in return?''

''I don't even want to think about it.''

Elisabeth stood up and almost cried out as pain like a bolt of lightning shot down her arm and across her back and neck. ''Chris...he dislocated my arm. You have to put it back in for me otherwise I'm useless.''

He looked at her. ''It's going to hurt like hell.'' he said, as he walked across to her and gently feeling the dislocated joint.

''I know.''

''Lie forwards.'' he ordered gently, guiding her to the lab bench. The stainless steel table felt cold on her cheek. ''You ready?''

''Do it.'' she said.

''Okay, one...two...''

''Don't count, just do it!'' she said firmly.

With one hand, Chris pressed her shoulder down to the bench. With his other hand, he grabbed her forearm and pulled, guiding the arm back into its socket with an audible click. Elisabeth gritted her teeth and repeatedly thumped the metal bench with her other hand. Her eyes filled with tears.

''That's it, it's in.'' Chris said as he released her arm.

Elisabeth straightened up and wiped away the moisture around her eyes. She rolled her shoulder. ''God, that hurt.'' she mumbled.

Chris tapped the radio by his ear. There was no response. He pulled the device away from his head and threw it to the ground.

''It's not working. Give me yours.'' he demanded, holding out his empty palm to Elisabeth. Elisabeth obliged, removing the small device from her ear and passing it to Chris.

''Claire, Leon, Carlos - come in.'' He scanned the floor and spotted his sub-automatic machine gun lying under the bench. He picked it up and inspected it, looking for the fault that had caused it to backfire on Elisabeth. ''Claire, Leon, Carlos - come in!'' he repeated. He smacked the gun against the bench. There was a loud click. ''It was the loading mechanism.'' he said to Elisabeth.

''Chris, this is Carlos.'' His voice was distant.

Chris straightened up at the sound of Carlos's voice. ''Carlos - what the hell is going on up there? Why is no one responding?''

''I think there's something in the ship's hull that's interfering with our comms. We're pinned down up here Chris - another group of bad guys has shown up.''

''How many?''

''Eight more.''

''Okay, hang tight. We're coming to help. Now listen to me very carefully. There is a bioweapon. It's a child - a young girl. She - _it_ - got past us. You have to have to kill it on sight.''

''Did you say a girl?' She got past you?'

''Yes, I'm afraid so. Don't be fooled by the way it looks, kill it.''

''You must be getting old Chris!'' Carlos joked. ''Hey - don't be too long...it's getting busy up here.''

''We're coming. Chris out.''

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In S.T.A.R.S headquarters, Jill was still sitting in front of the communications console in the operations room. A young S.T.A.R.S officer placed a styrofoam cup containing a steaming brown liquid in front of her. Jill swivelled her chair around so she could face him.

''Thank you.'' she smiled half-heartedly.

He smiled. ''Any luck?''

''Not yet.''

''Keep trying. They've only been offline for around twenty minutes. I'm sure they'll be back any time now.''

Jill nodded and turned back around to the console. ''SH-1, this is S.T.A.R.S. headquarters, come in. Over.''

The young S.T.A.R.S officer left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

''SH-1, this is S.T.A.R.S. headquarters, come in. Over.'' Jill slouched forward and her body shook as she fought back a sob. Where were they? What was going on?

''Jill Valentine?'' a rather surprised voice could be heard over the radio.

Jill sat up sharply, knocking the hot cup of coffee over her lap. She yelped as the hot fluid soaked through her trousers and burned her skin.

''Justin? Thank God.'' she said through gritted teeth as she attempted to mop up the hot fluid with a tissue.

''I hear you Jill. What's wrong?''

''You have to listen to me very carefully. There's a bioweapon on that ship.''

''Okay, but how do you know this?''

''_Because I've been there before_. There's no time to explain. It looks like a child, but it isn't. It's deadly. I've seen it kill. It's not like the others we've seen before - killing mindlessly. This one takes _pleasure_ in it.''

''Right - I'll pass this on. There's a bit of a problem with our comms devices though. I've barely been able to get through to the team. I think there's some kind of jamming device.''

''So they're out of contact?''

''Yes - after Carlos detonated the EMP, I was unable to get a clear signal again. Don't worry though Jill; I can pick up their locations from our satellite.''

''So you don't have a _visual_ contact either?''

''I'm afraid not. There's nowhere close to where the Methuselah is moored that I can safely put down the chopper.''

''I understand. Keep trying to get through to them though. This bioweapon is fast - very fast.''

''I'll keep you posted Jill, don't worry! These guys - you guys - are the best. You can handle anything.''

''I know.'' Jill smiled. ''But I just have a really bad feeling about this...'' she added as her smile faded.

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Claire was leaning against a red rusty metal cargo container at the edge of the quayside. She had run from the Methuselah towards the tree line beyond the quayside where she had seen the girl, closely followed by a soldier, disappear moments earlier. She was amazed at how fast they both ran. Her heart was beating so fast she could hear the pounding in her ears. Her hands were shaking, and she gripped her weapon tighter to steady herself. She leaned around the edge of the container, red rust rubbing off it onto her black kevlar vest, when she saw the soldier struggling with the girl amongst the trees. She checked her weapon and inhaled sharply before jumping out of her hiding place.

''Let her go!'' she screamed, pointing her weapon directly at the soldier who was standing less than ten metres in front of her. He slowly looked up at her and smiled while holding the child firmly to the floor by her wrists. Claire noted that he had the same characteristics as the soldiers she and Chris had encountered a few days before at the facility from which they had rescued Jill - that is, he had almost alien-like red eyes and a fixed, manic grin. Then she noticed that the child's clothes were stained with blood.

She regarded the soldier with disgust. ''What have you done to her? Let her go! I _will_ kill you!''

The soldier said nothing - he just continued to grin. Suddenly, he grasped the struggling girl by the scruff of her neck and slammed her head against the floor. Claire cried out as the girl's body went limp. The soldier straightened up and laughed.

''Show me what you've got.'' he teased, and suddenly ran towards her.

Claire drew the handgun that was holstered by her hip and fired. The soldier dropped heavily and then lay motionless on the dirt floor. Slowly, she inched towards the body. She was aware of the sound of her heavy breathing and twigs breaking under her booted feet. Then she was aware of the sound of a helicopter. It wasn't the S.T.A.R.S helicopter - it sounded more like a gunship. She looked up as its dark shadow passed overhead. Had they called Keller's men already?

Claire was suddenly aware of footsteps approaching her. The soldier was now on his feet and walking towards her, still grinning, his arms stretched forwards. She fired shot after into his body, tearing a whole in his torso. He flinched after each shot, but he kept on his feet and kept walking towards her.

''Why don't you just die!'' she screamed. She was momentarily distracted by the heavy gunfire behind her, back towards the ship.

The soldier's face contorted with anger as his pace towards Claire quickened. Claire reached for her utility belt and pulled out one of the incendiary grenades. She threw it in front of him, and the ground caught fire. The soldier had gained so much momentum by now that he was unable to stop himself careering into the flames. His clothes caught fire and he screamed in agony as his flesh blackened and blistered. He burned so brightly that Claire cast a long shadow across the floor. She stepped backwards as the heat of the flames felt uncomfortable on her skin. Suddenly, he stopped screaming and fell forwards. The flames died down. He was dead.

Claire then looked at the empty space on the floor where the girl was lying a few moments ago. She must have been terrified and run, she reasoned. Slowly walking forward, she could hear gentle sobbing a few metres in front of her, coming from behind a tree.

''Hey! You can come out now! Everything's okay. I won't hurt you.'' she said softly. ''My name's Claire, Claire Redfield. I'm here to help you.'' Claire was hoping to coax the child out of her hiding place.

As Claire neared the tree, the child emerged. Her head was down and her face was covered by her matted blond hair. She appeared to be shivering.

''Everything's going to be okay.'' Claire repeated as she holstered her weapon and held out her hand.

The child looked up slowly and suddenly dived towards her, catching Claire off guard and knocking her to the floor with a heavy thud. Claire barely had time to gather her bearings as the child's face was bearing down on her - although now she noticed that this wasn't the face of a child. There were dark hollows where the eyes should have been, the mouth was twisted with lips curled back to reveal a set of blackened teeth. Twisting, pulsating veins were clearly visible beneath its white translucent skin. Claire grabbed the child's wrists and it struggled hard, trying to bite into her neck. For such a small creature, it was incredibly strong, and Claire didn't know how much longer she could hold on.

Suddenly the girl squealed and seemed to lurch backwards off of her. Claire sat up, slightly confused. In front of her, and illuminated by the dying embers of the fire, was the tall figure of Albert Wesker who was effortlessly holding the wriggling child by its neck. There was a horrifying crunch as the girls head fell to one side and her small body fell limp in his hands. Wesker noted Claire's look of revulsion.

''Oh don't worry, she'll be okay. You can thank your new S.T.A.R.S member for that.''

Claire rushed Wesker, but he casually pushed her away. She fell, head first, into a large, leaf-less bush. The sharp thorns tore into her bare flesh as she scrambled to her feet, ready to run at him again.

''I have no desire to kill you Claire Redfield.'' Wesker said calmly, the tone of his voice stopping her in her tracks. ''Not yet, anyway. Give my apologies to Chris. I'm sure he'll recover.''

Claire's eyes widened. ''What have you done to him?''

''You're older brother is always so keen to jump into a fight. It's just such a shame that he never learns from past mistakes.'' Wesker feigned a yawn. ''Well, it would seem you have two choices here Claire. You can stay here and let me kill you, or you can go and tend to your brother.''

''I swear, if you've done something to him...'' she spat, clenching her fists.

''I rarely give choices Claire. I would make the most of this.'' he warned.

She stared at him and then back in the direction of the Methuselah, back in the direction of her friends that she had just abandoned to chase this creature. She knew that on her own, Wesker would easily overpower her. What she didn't understand was why she was still alive. Why hadn't he killed her already?

''I thought so.'' Wesker said as he watched Claire turn and run in the direction of the ship. He then looked down at the small figure hanging limp in his grasp and smiled.

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''I'm coming.'' Rebecca said breathlessly as she responded to the request from Leon to regroup on the quayside. As she emerged through the trees, she spotted Leon crouched behind a stack of wooden cargo boxes that were being torn to pieces by bullets. She scanned the deck of the Methuselah where she could just make out a number of black-clad figures crouching beside a large metal container. They were firing at Leon, pinning him down. Next to the ship she spotted a small black speedboat.

''Damn.'' she whispered to herself. ''Reinforcements.''

Rebecca then became aware of the sound of helicopter blades. She knew instantly that it wasn't the S.T.A.R.S helicopter. Its black outline emerged from the darkness over her head and progressed with great speed towards the Methuselah. The helicopter circled overhead and fired at the black figures crouched on the ship. Screams could be heard in unison with cracking wood and metallic rings as the bullets tore up the deck and ricocheted off steel.

''Leon, come in.''

There was a brief buzz of radio static, followed by Leon's voice. ''Rebecca!''

''Who sent the signal for Keller's men? I assume that helicopter is one of Keller's...''

''I'm not sure exactly what's going on - we've been having some trouble with our comms.''

There was suddenly an enormous explosion. Leon looked across at the ship to see the munitions container Claire had discovered earlier blow apart, shedding hot debris across the deck and quayside. The resultant fire lit the indigo sky with a soft yellow glow. Leon then became aware of a strange sound - like a rush of wind.

''Leon - look out!'' Rebecca shouted.

He looked up just in time to see the wooden debris of one of the lifeboats land just beside him. He rolled to the side quickly as the lifeboat's ropes and heavy metallic pulley's that attached it to the ship fell out of the sky and landed at the edge of the water.

''That was _too_ close.'' Leon muttered.

''Leon, Claire, Carlos - anyone!'' It was Chris's voice on the radio. He sounded agitated.

''Chris! Where have you been?'' Leon replied as he spotted his S.T.A.R.S companion, accompanied by Elisabeth, emerging from the bridge and running across the deck.

''There's no time for explanations. Did you get the bioweapon? It must have run past you.''

''I haven't seen it Chris. I've been pinned down here for the last ten minutes.''

''Claire - what about you?'' he tapped his radio. ''Claire?'' There was a real sense of urgency to Chris's voice. ''Leon - do you have a visual on Claire? I can't see her on the ship.''

Leon looked around the quayside. He hadn't seen her for a while. He glanced at the burning remnants of the container on the deck. There was no way she was still in there. Was there? He felt his heart pound faster.

''Leon - _where's my sister?_'' Chris asked angrily.

''She's not here - we separated about ten minutes ago...arrgh!'' Leon grabbed his right shoulder.

''Leon? Are you hit?''

Leon gritted his teeth. ''It's okay - it's just a graze.'' It may only have been a graze, but it stung. He dived back behind the splintered remains of the wooden boxes. Pressing his back against them, he edged closer to the corner where he could see a black clad solider wearing a balaclava running from the deck of the Methuselah and across the gantry that connected the ship with the quayside. He was firing incessantly at the boxes that were quickly disintegrating, offering Leon less and less cover with every second. Leon reached into his utility belt and drew out a flash grenade. He threw it behind him and covered his eyes. Hearing the soldier cry out, he emerged from his hiding place. Click. Click. Click. Leon was out of ammunition. He threw his weapon at the soldier who had quickly recovered from the effects of the grenade and simply side-stepped out of the way. The solider walked slowly towards him. Even though he was wearing a black balaclava, Leon could sense he was smiling. He knew he was practically defenceless. The soldier slowly lifted up his weapon and pointed the barrel at Leon, his finger poised on the trigger. What was he waiting for?

Leon's eyes darted from left to right as he looked for something, _anything_, which could be used as a weapon. There was a short burst of automatic gunfire that made Leon's stomach lurch. However, it was the masked soldier who stumbled backwards into the wooden lifeboat debris, his outstretched arms revealing a number of bullet holes across his chest. He then rolled clumsily into the sea. Elisabeth appeared level with Leon as he looked down at the black figure disappearing into the dark, murky green water, its arms reaching upward. He glanced at Elisabeth, while suddenly drawing his knife and throwing it in her direction. She looked at him, startled, wide-eyed. She then heard a thud behind her. Turning around, she saw another soldier lying on his back, with Leon's knife embedded in his throat. She looked across at Leon and smiled.

''I guess that makes us even.''

''I guess it does.'' he replied.

Leon suddenly became aware of a ragged, dragging sound. He looked toward the edge of the quayside to see the lifeboat debris topple off the edge into the water. He was suddenly dragged to the floor as the coil of rope he had inadvertently stood in tightened around his left ankle. In an instant, he was dragged across the floor to the edge of the water, his fingers desperately searching for a something to grab on to. Elisabeth dived towards him, grasping both of his hands. She too was dragged along the floor with Leon, as even their combined weight put up no resistance. Leon's face contorted with pain as the weight of the debris pulled on his leg.

He looked her in the eye. ''Let go.'' he said calmly.

''No.'' she said stubbornly.

''Let go, or we'll _both_ die.''

Elisabeth shook her head firmly, but Leon yanked his hands from hers. As he became enveloped by the icy water, Leon struggled to remove the tangled rope from around his ankle. As he got deeper, the rope got tighter. He tugged on it but it passed through his hands, tearing into the flesh. The saltwater stung. Eventually he stopped descending as the debris came to rest on the seafloor some metres below. He reached to his shoulder for his knife to cut the rope - then he was hit by the awful realisation that his knife was still embedded in the soldier on the quayside. The increased pressure with water depth pressed on his lungs, further impeding his breathing. He continued to struggle but he was quickly running out of air.

Elisabeth was watching helplessly as Leon disappeared into the dark water below. She jumped up and then dived down into the water, tracing the length of the rope. Eventually she could make out the shadowy outline of a figure, thrashing madly. When she was nearly level with Leon, she put her hand on his shoulder to get his attention. Immediately he realised she was there and stopped struggling. Elisabeth tried to unwind the rope and loosen its grip, but it was too tight. She squeezed his hand and he squeezed back, seeming to understand that she had to go to the surface for air, but she would be back.

Elisabeth's head appeared above the water. Fortunately Chris had followed her. ''Chris!'' she spat out a mouthful of foul, salty water and scanned the quayside. ''Leon's trapped. I need a knife!'' she shouted.

Chris nodded while pulling out his knife that was sheathed by his chest. He dived into the water next to her.

''Follow the rope down.'' she said as she shivered, suddenly realising the water temperature was only a few degrees above zero. She knew that Leon couldn't last too much longer in water this cold.

Both Chris and Elisabeth took a few deep breaths and then disappeared underwater. Rebecca and Carlos suddenly appeared at the water's edge, looking down at the where they had last seen Chris and Elisabeth take their last breaths. A few bubbles rose to the surface and burst. Rebecca looked at Carlos, her lips quivered as though she was going to say something, but no words came out. Carlos instinctively squeezed her hand.

''I know.'' he said softly. ''They're going to get him out. Don't worry. Then you're going to have to do your thing.''

Rebecca nodded, steadying herself. She looked at her wristwatch. ''They've been down there for nearly four minutes.''

Carlos had no reply. He just squeezed her hand harder.

Suddenly Chris's head broke through the water, quickly followed by Leon and Elisabeth's. Leon's eyes were closed. His skin was waxy and his lips were blue. They hoisted his limp body onto the quayside.

A trail of bullets tore up the wooden floor beside them.

''Merde! Why the hell is that thing firing at us?'' Carlos screamed as he looked up and saw the helicopter circle overhead.

''I don't know - but we've got to get into cover.'' Chris replied as he hoisted himself out of the water and quickly scanned the quayside. ''Over there.'' he said, pointing to a line of stacked metal containers.

Chris grabbed Leon's legs, Carlos held his arms and they moved quickly.

As they reached the containers and gently laid Leon down, Carlos looked around him. ''Where's Badley?''

Chris noticed then that she had slipped away.

''She's gone.'' Carlos said. ''I knew it. I knew there was something wrong about her. She's taken what she was after from that ship and now she's off.''

''She could have gone any time. Why would she stay and save Leon?''

''Look, that isn't important right now.'' Rebecca interjected angrily as she felt for a pulse. She shook her head, frustrated. ''We need to start CPR. We have to keep the oxygen moving around his body otherwise he doesn't stand a chance.''

Chris nodded. He cocked Leon's head back, opening his airway. ''He's not breathing.''

Rebecca tore open Leon's shirt, revealing his bare chest. ''Starting chest compressions.'' she said while placing her hands in the region above his heart and pushing hard six times.

'We've got to get him warm. We need to get back to the helicopter.'' Chris tapped his radio. ''Justin, come in.''

''I hear you Chris.''

''Why is that chopper attacking the ship - _attacking us?_' We haven't called for Keller's men yet!'

''I don't know - it's a US air force Apache. I've tried hailing them but there's no response.''

''You _have_ to identify us to that chopper - tell them we are friendly otherwise we're going to get hit.''

'I've been trying Chris...''

''We need to get out of here. Now. Leon's in trouble...''

''Can you make it back to the rendezvous point? There's nowhere to land where you are.''

''I don't know...'' Chris looked across at Carlos and Rebecca who were still desperately trying to revive Leon. 'We'll make it back. Somehow. Get prepped, give us ten minutes.''

''Okay, see you in ten, Justin out.''

Chris scanned the quayside around them. ''Claire...'' he whispered. ''Where are you?''

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Claire emerged out of the tree line. The helicopter that she had seen pass overhead a few minutes before was firing both at the ship and at the numerous containers stacked up on the quayside. Bullets tore into the metal hull and a number of small fires raged on the bridge. Weren't they trying to capture the ship as evidence? At this rate, they'll tear it to pieces she thought. She also noted that the arms-filled metal container that she had looked in earlier had been destroyed, its blackened, smoking debris was now scattered everywhere.

As she began to jog back towards the ship, her pace slowed as she saw Carlos and Rebecca in the distance. They were knelt over something - _someone_.

''Oh no, Chris.'' she whispered as she thought back to Wesker's parting words.

Her pace quickened. There was an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach - almost like an unbearably heavy weight that was dragging her down from the inside. Her throat tightened. She knew something had gone horribly wrong. As she got closer she saw Chris kneeling just beyond Carlos.

''Thank God.'' she said, temporarily relieved. But then who...?

The heavy feeling got worse. She began to run towards them as fast as she could. When she was no more than a few metres away, she stopped dead as she noted a mat of wet blond hair.

''Leon!!'' she screamed.

Chris looked up and sprung to his feet. He ran the few paces across to his sister and held her tightly. Claire struggled and tried to push past him but he held firm. ''Chris...'' she whimpered. ''...what...happened?''

''He was caught in some debris and got dragged in the water...we couldn't get to him in time.''

With a great effort, she pulled herself out of her brother's arms and threw herself to the floor beside Leon's lifeless body.

Chris knelt down beside Claire and gently put his hands on her shoulders.

''Come on Leon!'' Rebecca ordered as she thumped Leon's bare chest, trying to shock him back to life.

Rebecca felt for a pulse. She then lent forward, her ear skimming his open mouth, trying to detect the slightest breath. Her bottom lip trembled. She looked at Chris, and then across at Claire, almost apologetic. ''Nothing. There's nothing more I can do here.''

''No!'' Claire screamed as she pushed Chris's hands off her shoulders. ''Don't you leave us!'' she sobbed. ''Don't leave _me_ Leon! I can't lose you too! How long as it been?'' she said, facing Rebecca.

Rebecca just looked at her sadly, shaking her head.

''I said how long as it been?'' Claire repeated, her voice had become hoarse.

''Over ten minutes.''

''_Ten minutes?_ He can still make it. The water's cold - his metabolism will have slowed down. _He can survive_.'' she pleaded.

''We have to warm him up and intubate him, but we can't back to the helicopter.''

Again, Chris gently put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed. ''Claire.'' He said gently.

There was a volley of heavy gunfire on the other side of the metal containers, but Claire was oblivious.

''No - you are not going to stop! He's a fighter. He wants to live! Leon!'' she was almost hysterical. She jerked herself forwards, out of her brother's grip. She grabbed Leon's shirt that had been torn open to reveal his bare chest, and shook him violently. ''Wake up! On your feet! That's an order!'' her voice cracked. ''We need you Leon. _I_ need you!'' she whispered into his ear, her whole body shaking as she cried uncontrollably.

Again, Chris gently squeezed her shoulders. ''Claire….'' he began. ''We've got to go.''

''We're not leaving him here while there's still a chance.'' she snarled.

''We've got to get back to the chopper - or we're going to be killed here. This mission is over. We've got to go...''

''I said we're not leaving him here!'' she snapped at Chris.

Suddenly a black speedboat pulled up by the quayside in front of them. Elisabeth was sitting in the front.

''Get in!'' she shouted over the din. ''Quick. That Apache will be back here very soon. We need a decent head start in this thing.''

Chris looked across at Carlos, feeling vindicated. Carlos returned the look and nodded. They picked Leon up and carried him across to the boat, laying him down in the back. They were closely followed by Claire and Rebecca who knelt beside him and recommenced CPR.

Chris stood next to Elisabeth who was preparing to move off. ''Nice work.'' he said, staring straight ahead. Elisabeth simply nodded and they sped off along the coast toward the rendezvous point.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jill was curled up and dozing in the chair in the operations room. A pulse of radio static made her jolt.

''This is SH-1 requesting permission to land.'' It was Chris Redfield's voice.

''SH-1 this is Jill. Welcome back.'' Jill couldn't hide her relief at the sound of his voice.

There was a short-lived silence.

''We have one fatality.''

Jill swallowed hard. ''Who...''

''It's Leon.''

Jill looked down and closed her eyes. She _knew_ something bad was going to happen.

''Jill - are you still there?''

Jill sniffed and cleared her throat. ''Yes, yes I'm here. I'll make the necessary preparations.''

''Thank you.''

''How's Claire?''

There was a pause. ''Not good.''

''Chris...are _you_ okay?''

He didn't respond.


	13. Chapter 13 Passive

Disclaimer: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters, I am just a fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. As always, any constructive comments or criticism is much appreciated. Prepare yourselves for some angst!!! 

**Chapter 13 Passive **

''I did everything I could in the chopper Jill. Sixty minutes. It was too long. Even if he'd made it, and I'd managed to bring him back...'' Rebecca Chambers shook her head sadly and swallowed hard. Her normally young, pretty face seemed to look old and tired. ''...it was just _too long_. There would have been too much damage.'' She bit her bottom lip to try and stop the tears that were forming in her eyes. She looked at the ground and released a barely audible sob.

''I know you did everything you could.'' Jill tried her best to smile warmly, but the news of Leon's death had hit her hard. This felt almost like a dream - a terrible, vivid dream where all she could do was watch, powerless, as the tragic events unfolded in front of her. She had been on that ship, but her memories had returned to her too late. ''This was nobody's fault Rebecca.''

Rebecca wiped away a stray tear. She looked up at Jill. ''It was his.''

Jill looked at Rebecca, puzzled.

''Albert Wesker. We all knew there was something strange happening before we went in. Well...'' she smirked sarcastically. ''…stranger than normal anyway. It was just too quiet. We shouldn't have gone in without more information.''

''Do you think it was a set-up?''

''Yes, absolutely. But maybe not for us.''

''I don't understand. If not for you, then _who_?''

''Wesker was after the bioweapon - the young girl that attacked Chris and Elisabeth.''

''From what I understand, it killed everyone on the ship. The scientists, the security staff - the captain and crew. By releasing it, Joseph Barnes condemned everyone on board to death - including himself. I can't believe a man could be so stupid. But I still don't understand Wesker's role in all of this. I mean, he had a perfect opportunity to kill Chris _and_ Claire but he didn't.''

''_Exactly_.'' Rebecca replied. ''I don't think the S.T.A.R.S were the targets. Apparently he said something about 'their parts not being finished' although I can't remember exactly what Claire said. Maybe he thought it was too dangerous to go in and get the bioweapon by himself.''

''So Wesker wanted you to capture or subdue the creature before he got there. It makes sense.''

''But then we were attacked by Keller's men...''

''Did you identify yourselves?''

Rebecca looked at Jill bemused.

''I'm sorry Rebecca; I know you would have done, I shouldn't have asked that. I just don't understand why that chopper fired on you guys.''

''They knew we were there Jill, they must have. They weren't supposed to come in until we gave the all clear, until we'd secured the ship. No one gave any signal. It was like they wanted to kill everything on and around that ship, including us. Someone was covering their tracks.''

Jill nodded in agreement. ''The ship was destroyed.''

''_Destroyed?_''

''Yes. I received confirmation about twenty minutes ago. They blew a hole in the bough. The Methuselah's gone. They'll struggle to get anything useful now. We're right back where we started. No evidence, no arrests...and we've needlessly lost probably one of the best agents we'll ever have.''

''Chris is going to be...''

''Furious. Yes, I know. I tried to talk to him when you returned but he...well, he was in no mood to talk with me. He went to his office to talk to Keller I think. I just hope he doesn't say something he'll regret.''

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Chris slammed his office door behind him, the noise reverberating along the corridor. For just a moment, he stood there, breathing hard, clenching his fists. He couldn't let anyone see him like this. He was their leader, the one who had to maintain calm order during the most trying situations. Well, that was easier said than done. Fury coursed through his body to the extent that he could barely focus on his surroundings. A thousand images of the Methuselah mission shot through his mind; the B.O.W, Wesker, Elisabeth, Leon...all of them disturbing. What did he do wrong? What could he have done differently?

He sat down at his desk. Taking a deep breath, he opened his laptop. A blank window opened on the screen. Moments later, the screen was filled with the image of General Oscar Keller. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept for days. His aging face was more creviced than usual, his eyes were almost lost in black hollows.

''Chris. Good to see you made it back safe.'' Keller's voice was hoarse.

''General.''

''I know what you are going to say Chris. I was following the best course of action.''

''_The best course of action?_'' Chris tried hard to steady his voice. ''You're men shot at us!''

''We received a transmission giving us the all-clear…''

''Well, it certainly didn't come from me!''

''We couldn't have known that. They presumed that anyone moving on the surface was the enemy.''

''Did they use the code word?''

''Yes, of course.''

''Then either you're covering something up or…''

''Are you calling me a liar Chris? Because if you are…'' There was an ominous warning tone to Keller's response.

''Someone betrayed us.'' the younger man interrupted. ''Someone gave up the codeword.''

''You don't trust your team?''

''I trust my team implicitly General. It's your team I don't trust.''

''Then I will investigate. Look Chris, in many ways, the mission was a success. You are to be commended.''

''A success?'' The pitch of Chris's voice increased. ''How exactly can this mission be judged a success? One of our men was killed!''

''Leon Kennedy's death is most regrettable. He was a capable soldier.''

''You do remember Leon Kennedy, right? The man who, _on your orders_, not only rescued President Graham's daughter from a fanatical cult, but probably eliminated the most serious threat to national security since Raccoon City, all on his own? I think his death is more than regrettable General.''

''Of course I remember Leon. I recruited him. He was one of the best I have ever seen. However, what is really important here is the fact that we've ended another illegal operation. The lab has been decommissioned.''

Chris shook his head in disbelief at his superior's callous attitude. Leon's death was much more than regrettable.

''Chris, you're soldiers. Soldiers die in the line of duty. You accepted that many years ago when you signed on the line to serve your country. If you can't live by that anymore, then perhaps you should step down…''

''That's never going to happen, and you know it.''

''Then you will have to accept that what's done is done. I hear you have another lead on a lab in Alaska. I want you to investigate as soon as you are ready.''

''But what about Wesker? He's got away again, and now he has another B.O.W.''

''I told you not to go after Wesker. That was not the point of this mission.''

''But…''

''I will not discuss this Chris. Yes, Wesker is a dangerous man, but we have other priorities right now. You saw him, yes?''

Chris nodded.

''And what happened?''

Chris didn't respond. He didn't feel like re-telling his encounter below the decks of the Methuselah.

''You couldn't stop him, right?''

Chris's shoulders slumped and he exhaled sharply. The General was right, he couldn't stop him.

''You of all people should know that you can't stop him with sheer force alone Chris. We need special tactics.''

''Isn't that what your created the S.T.A.R.S for?''

''For now, I want you to concentrate on this lab in Alaska. Ignore Wesker. His time will come.''

''I can't do that General. I can't prove it, or explain it right now, but I know that everything that's happened recently is somehow connected to him. Something big is going on here. It's like a game of chess – he's arranging all of his pieces for...''

''Maybe so, but I don't want you to lose any more of your team. You will follow my orders or I will find someone else who will.''

Chris shook his head with a mixture of anger and disbelief. He had heard more than enough. How could Keller be so blind? Wesker should have been their priority! He picked up the laptop and threw it against the wall where it shattered into a number of pieces. However, this did nothing to quench his anger. He leant forward over his desk, his head in his hands.

There was a quiet tap on his door. Before he could respond, the door opened a few inches.

''Chris, can I come in?''

He looked up to see Rebecca's solemn face. She spotted the shards of Chris's laptop scattered across the floor and presumed that his conversation with General Keller hadn't gone well.

''Yes.'' he replied as he sat upright while clearing his throat.

''I think you're going to have to talk to Claire. She won't leave Leon. I feel terrible saying this but…'' she bit her bottom lip. ''…there are things I need to do.''

Chris raised his eyebrows. He didn't understand.

''You know, with the body. I have to do an autopsy within twelve hours. Standard procedure. I have to check for potential infection.''

''Leon wasn't infected.''

''I know, but it's standard procedure.''

''Of course. I'll go talk to her.''

''She hasn't said a word. I'm worried about her.''

''Me too Rebecca. Me too.''

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Claire Redfield was sat on the edge of a simple wooden chair, her arms hanging at her side. Her face was blank, her huge blue eyes focussing on nothing. The chair was situated next to a metal framed single bed. On the bed, a thick, heavy white sheet completely covered the figure of a man.

Slowly, she stood up and reached for the white covering. She held the thick white cloth so tight that her knuckles went white. She then realised that her hands were shaking. She clenched her fists even tighter to try and calm herself, but this resulted in her entire body shaking uncontrollably as she struggled to breathe - it was as though the air had become dense and poisoned. Slowly, she pulled back the sheet and stifled a sob as Leon's face was revealed. Claire was annoyed at the cliché, but in death he looked peaceful, like he was in a deep sleep. The smooth contours of his face were so beautiful now. His lips were white and parted slightly as though he was about to speak. She wanted to hear his voice. She wanted him to murmur in his sleep.

Claire continued to pull the sheet down, eventually revealing Leon's bare chest. Barely visible on his muscular, contoured torso were a number of pale pink and silvery blemishes that were the remnants of old injuries - stab wounds, gunshots, burns - injuries sustained for a cause that most people would never know about. Leon's deeds would never be publicly acknowledged or remembered by anyone outside of their small group. A true hero in every sense she thought.

She stared at an intense patch of bruising on his upper chest. The bruises were the only evidence of Rebecca's futile struggle to bring him back to life. In that hour, Claire had never felt so helpless as she was forced to watch the man she loved slip away forever. For nearly two years now she had fought against her feelings for Leon, knowing that if anything were to happen between them, it could jeopardise their ability to do their job and it could de-stabilise the group. The S.T.A.R.S spent nearly every waking moment together. Things were far from perfect and there were personality clashes, but overall the S.T.A.R.S worked. They all shared a common bond – that their lives had been touched by Umbrella – and they all wanted to destroy the last few remnants of Umbrella and all those like them who were willing to step into their place. There was no time for romance. They had given up themselves for their cause. In many ways, Claire didn't even know who she was anymore. She couldn't remember what music she liked to listen to, what books she liked to read, what food was her favourite. It was like she had been living on autopilot the last ten years of her life, only existing from mission to mission. It was only the time she had spent alone with Leon that she realised she was an individual, that there could be life outside of the S.T.A.R.S, that when this was all over, she wouldn't be left alone with nothing. But she had never known Leon. She had left it too late. It was only now that she realised that even if they had been together, there was no way she could feel any worse than the way she was feeling right now.

Claire went to rest her face on Leon's chest but flinched and pulled away sharply. He was ice cold. She reached out again and laid her palm on his chest in the area just above where his heart should be, hoping to feel a small flutter. There was nothing. All that was laying in front of her now was a shell of slowly decaying flesh and bone. Claire looked again at his face and then concentrated on removing a few stray strands of his sandy blond hair that were messily stuck to his cheeks and forehead. She didn't hear the footsteps approaching her from behind.

''Claire…'' a masculine voice spoke softly behind her. Claire felt a hand touch her shoulder. ''You have to leave him now.''

She barely acknowledged the presence of her brother as she continued to rearrange the stray strands.

''Claire.'' Chris repeated, squeezing her shoulder more firmly.

''Get away from me!'' she spat, as she pushed Chris's hand away from her shoulder.

''Claire!''

''I said get away from me!'' she repeated, while clumsily wiping tears away from her face. ''This is your fault. THIS IS YOUR FAULT!'' she wailed, turning to face him.

Chris couldn't speak. He just shook his head slowly and looked at his sister who was now inconsolable. He reached towards her and tried to take her hands, but she stepped backwards out of his reach.

''I said GET AWAY FROM ME!'' she screamed.

''I'm…I'm so sorry Claire.'' Chris whispered while slowly shaking his head. ''I never wanted this to happen. I…''

''This is where your obsession with Wesker has got us.'' she interrupted, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

He opened his mouth to respond, but there was no sound. Claire's words hurt. He knew it was the pain talking, but he was sure she was speaking the truth.

''If you weren't so preoccupied with getting _him_, then Leon would be…he would be…''

''_Alive?_ It was an accident Claire. It could have happened to any one of us, any time.'' he pleaded.

Claire's rage seemed to dissipate suddenly and she looked at the floor, regretting everything she had just said to her brother. Of course it wasn't his fault, but she couldn't take those words back now. She had wanted to hurt someone, maybe to see if it would alleviate some of the pain she was feeling. Not only had her words hurt her brother, but they had done nothing to make her feel better, they had made her feel ashamed. She was the one who had left Leon. She was the one who had run off into the trees without telling anyone where she was going. She was the one who had broken mission protocol. If anyone was to blame, it was her.

''I need to be alone Chris. Just leave me alone.'' she said, looking directly into her brother's eyes.

Chris took a tentative step towards her.

''Please!'' she begged as she closed her eyes and looked back towards the floor.

Chris nodded sadly, turned and left the room. He walked out into the bright white corridors of the medical wing. He felt a twinge in his chest. Grimacing as he rubbed the tender area, he felt sure that his encounter with Wesker had given him a few bruised ribs. Wesker had beaten him, emasculated him. He could have killed him if he wanted to. The only reason he was alive was because Wesker had allowed it. He felt humiliated. Still, relative to Leon, he was lucky.

''Chris...'' Elisabeth's voice spoke softly as she appeared next to him in the corridor. ''I'm sure she doesn't mean it.''

Chris stopped and turned to face her. ''Were you listening in on our conversation?''

''No…yes…I didn't mean to. You could hear it from the other side of the medical wing. The door was wide open.''

Chris brushed her off and resumed his fast pace down the white tiled corridor. Elisabeth struggled to keep up with him.

''I guess she and Leon must have been close. Look, she's just upset. She's hurting, but she _will_ need you. Just let her get this out of her system.''

''You don't anything about us Dr Badley. I've told you before.''

''I know how much Leon meant to your sister, to you, to all of you. He was an important member of the S.T.A.R.S.''

''He was no more important that anyone else here. We've lost a lot of good people. Yes he'll be missed…'' Chris's voice cracked, betraying his true emotion. ''…but he can be replaced.''

Elisabeth was unconvinced by Chris's attempt at nonchalance. She knew that Leon was an invaluable member of the S.T.A.R.S. Practically a genius, he was easily Chris's equal with exceptional abilities that had saved his and many other lives. Elisabeth also knew that over the last few years, Chris and Leon's initial respect for each other had metamorphosed into a close friendship. She could understand why. Leon seemed like a nice guy. For a brief moment on the quayside, as she had held onto his hands and tried to prevent him being taken by the sea, she had looked into his eyes. She had seen that he wasn't ready to die, but he wasn't prepared to hold onto her, to risk _her_ life, in order to save his. How could he have done that, knowing what she was and what she had done?

''He was a good man Chris. He didn't deserve to go that way.''

''We can't change anything Elisabeth. We just have to accept the hand we're dealt and do the best we can.''

''Some things _can_ be undone.''

''Like death? I don't think so.''

''It's only been a few hours. There's still some cell activity...''

''If you're saying what I think you're saying…''

''Lazarus.''

Chris stopped and stirred at her. ''No.'' he said firmly.

''But it can work, I'm sure of it.''

''He's dead. His brain is dead. There's nothing left of Leon in that room now.''

''I can bring him back. I've spent my whole professional life working on this. I can do it Chris. At least you can let me try.''

''I've seen what happens when the dead are brought back to life. They're not people anymore. They're mindless shells with no traces of humanity. I won't let that happen to Leon.''

''Lazarus is nothing like the T-virus, the G-virus, or anything else designed by Umbrella. It can repair his brain cells. I can bring him back whole.''

''No.'' Chris said decisively.

''Could you face your sister, day after day, knowing that there was something you could have done, that there was a chance that he could have been brought back?''

Chris stopped walking again. He grabbed Elisabeth's shoulders and pushed her hard against the wall, making her wince. He thrust his face less than an inch in front of hers. ''We are not going to talk about this again, and you are not going to mention this to Claire. Do you understand?'' he voice was quiet but menacing.

''Look at Jill. She's completely fine. No side affects.''

Chris jerked her shoulders and pushed her back against the wall, harder than before. ''Can't you hear what I'm saying to you? The answer is no! The S.T.A.R.S are not your test subjects.''

''I'm just trying to help you Chris. This is what I do, this is what I'm good at.''

''You can help us by doing nothing. At least, as far as Leon's concerned.'' He released her and sighed heavily as a twinge of regret over the way he had just lost his temper washed over him. ''But there is something I need from you.'' he continued, almost whispering.

''Yeah? What would that be?'' she was slightly taken aback by the sudden change in his tone of voice.

''I need you to help me find a way to get to Wesker.''

Elisabeth brushed past him and straightened up her shirt. ''I can do that.'' she smiled. ''I have something to show you.''

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Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine, Rebecca Chambers, Carlos Oliveira and Elisabeth Badley were sat around the large round table in the conference room. Elisabeth threw a small plastic sample bag into the middle of the table.

''What's that?'' Carlos asked.

''That is D.N.A.'' Elisabeth replied, almost smugly.

Carlos looked at her confused.

''I pulled this from Wesker's head.''

''A memento?'' Carlos sniggered. ''We've got better things to do than look at your collection of mission keep-sakes.''

''You can't get to Wesker. He's practically indestructible due to Birkin's experimental virus. He's stronger than you, faster than you and…'' she looked at Chris. ''…he's smarter than you. We have to bring him back down to our level. That's the only way you can fight him.''

''Are you saying what I think you're saying?'' Rebecca interjected.

''What exactly are you talking about?'' Chris asked, looking at Elisabeth and then Rebecca.

Elisabeth stood up and leaned forward on the table with both of her hands. ''I can analyse his D.N.A, find out what make's him 'work'. I can find out exactly what Birkin's virus did to him, and how. And then I can find a way to reverse it.''

''But we don't know if that's even possible. The virus has probably mutated many times since it was introduced to him. It will most certainly have a failsafe, it may mutate again if attacked.''

''Then we attack it with a virus that mutates.'' Elisabeth replied. ''I know Birkin's mind. I've studied his work.''

''How? He was a virtual recluse. He died a long time ago. And it's not like Umbrella published their work, what with most of it being illegal!'' Carlos slammed his hand on the table while looking towards Chris and Rebecca for support.

''He was one of my PhD supervisors.'' Elisabeth continued. ''You have to remember that back in the 90's, umbrella worked very closely with the government.''

''Are you sure you can do this?'' Chris asked quietly.

''Absolutely. You have a well equipped lab. All I need is free access to it.''

''How long?''

''Conservative estimate? Maybe three, four weeks.''

''We can't do this Chris. This is wrong.'' Carlos implored.

''I understand your misgivings Carlos, but…''

''If we do this, if we genetically engineer a virus to manipulate someone, to change them…then that makes us no different from Umbrella. You can't mess with nature and expect there to be no consequences. _We've seen the consequences_. We see them every day. Thousands and thousands of people have lost their lives – and worse – because of Umbrella's disregard of nature.''

Chris looked at Elisabeth while rubbing his chin. He tried to drown out Carlos's words. Carlos was right of course, but they were running out of options. They had to get Wesker, and soon. Chris knew his adversary's mind; he knew he was planning something. They couldn't get Wesker using conventional means, so maybe stooping to his level was the only option available to them now. It went against everything Chris believed in, everything he had fought long and hard against. But maybe this was the only way?

''Do it.''

Elisabeth smiled while Carlos looked on, disbelieving. He stood up quickly, knocking over his chair. He looked at the faces around the room, unable to put into words what he was thinking. He muttered something in Spanish under his breath and strode to the door. As he reached for the handle, he looked over his shoulder.

''There will be consequences for this Chris.'' Carlos warned. ''I hope you're prepared to accept the responsibility of what you're about to create.''

Carlos didn't give Chris the opportunity to respond as he left the room. There was an awkward, protracted silence.

''I'll start right away.'' Elisabeth said before standing and following Carlos out of the room.

''Rebecca…''

''Yes Chris.''

''Keep an eye on her. Make sure she sticks to the plan. I don't want any surprises.''

Rebecca nodded as stood up to make for the exit. ''I will.''

Chris and Jill were left alone in the conference room.

''Jill – do you think I've made a mistake? Do you think I'm making the right decision, letting Elisabeth do this?''

Jill looked straight at him. ''I don't know Chris. I couldn't have made that decision, but that's why you're in charge.''

''Carlos was right. I'm no better than Umbrella. If this is what I'm prepared to do to get him…maybe I'm not fit to be in the S.T.A.R.S anymore. Maybe Keller was right, that I put my own agenda first, putting other people at risk.''

''Don't you ever say that Chris. You're in charge because you're the only one that can do it. You are the one that has to make those decisions that most of us can't. We know why we're here, what our job is, what we have to do.''

''But…''

''But nothing. You put yourself on the line too, and you're prepared to take the consequences for your actions. I've seen you take the consequences.'' Jill shuddered as she remembered the day she was taken, and she remembered the sight of Chris's inert, bleeding body on the quayside. ''Look, if this is what we have to do to get Wesker, then this is what we have to do. The longer he is out there, the more people will die.''

''Jill.'' Chris interrupted.

''What?''

''Thank you.''

Jill smiled as Chris reached forwards and squeezed her hand. He opened his mouth to say something else when there was a muffled bang.

Chris's eyes opened wide. ''That was a gunshot!''

They both stood up quickly and ran out into the corridor.

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''Rebecca?'' Claire called out softly as she walked slowly through Rebecca's laboratory situated at far end of the medical wing. ''Rebecca?'' she repeated, but Rebecca was nowhere to be seen. The lights were dim and the room was silent except for the constant hum of a large glass unit on one wall and the bubbling sound of fluids that were being gently heated by bunsen burners on the lab bench in the centre of the room.

Claire wandered towards the glass cupboard. Stacked inside were vials of blue fluid that she instantly recognised as the Lazarus anti-virus. Rebecca and Elisabeth had synthesised some more in order to make sure Jill was completely free of the infection. Her eyes were then drawn to a second shelf of vials filled with red fluid. Through the glass, she could the shelf was labelled 'Lazarus virus'. They must have synthesised this from the master samples Elisabeth retrieved. Claire pulled on the stainless steel door handle but it was locked. That made sense. Even in S.T.A.R.S headquarters, they had to keep something as potentially dangerous as this safe. But then, it wasn't _that_ dangerous Claire reasoned. Elisabeth had said that side effects were minimal if the virus was kept at the right temperature. Well, it had been kept at the right temperature in this unit, surely.

Earlier, Claire was about to go after Chris to apologise for the awful way she had spoken to him but instead she had overheard Chris and Elisabeth talking in the corridor. Elisabeth had said that she could bring Leon back, that as long as there was still some cell activity, Lazarus could work. She pulled her handgun from the holster and aimed at the small locking mechanism by the handle. She cocked the trigger and looked away to protect her eyes.

Bang.

She knew she had to be quick as the gunshot would certainly have attracted someone's attention. She pulled on the handle and the door swung open. She snatched one of the red vials. She turned and ran from the lab towards Leon's room, stopping on the way at a supply cupboard for a large syringe. She could hear pounding footsteps in the distance. They were coming.

Seconds later, Claire was standing over Leon, the syringe in her hand. She pressed the needle into the vial of red fluid, filling the cylindrical plastic compartment. She pressed her cheek against his and closed her eyes.

''I have to do this Leon.'' she whispered. ''Please forgive me.''

Her hand shaking, she held the large syringe of red fluid in the air. She knew that in order to penetrate the bone, muscle and cartilage that protected his heart, she would have to plunge the needle in with great force. She took a deep breath and thrust the syringe down with all of her strength and then she pushed the plunger, discharging its blood-red contents. She pulled out the now empty syringe and waited.

''Claire?''

Her brother's voice startled her. She turned to face him, at which point he noticed the empty syringe in her hand.

''Oh my God Claire, what have you done?''

She couldn't answer. She just starred hopelessly at her brother.

Chris ran across to her and grasped her shoulders. ''What have you done?''

''I…I can't lose him Chris. Not Leon too.'' she whimpered.

''No no no. Please tell me you haven't…..''. He pushed her out of the way and stared at Leon's corpse, pulling his handgun from the holster at his hip. He fixed his weapon on Leon and slowly edged forward.

''It didn't work.'' Claire said sadly. ''It didn't work.''

Suddenly there was a long, drawn out throaty groan and Leon sat bolt upright, coughing and wheezing. Chris jumped back with fright, nearly dropping his gun.

''Chris?'' Leon said with a throaty, dry voice. He looked down at his bare chest and mud-stained trousers. He glanced around the room and realised that he was in the medical wing. ''I was drowning……...''

Chris quickly gathered himself and cocked his handgun, ready to fire at his friend. He swallowed hard as his eyes began to water and his hands shook violently. Claire, realising what he was about to do, pushed past her brother and stood in front of Leon, shielding him.

''Claire.'' Chris said, his voice unsteady. ''Get out of the way.''

''No.'' she replied defiantly. ''You are _not_ going to kill him.''

''Claire.'' he repeated. ''Move.''

''Then you're going to have to kill us both.'' She turned her head to face Leon. Colour was gradually returning to his face - his skin no longer appeared waxy and translucent and his white lips were now a pale pink. He looked almost normal, apart from the reddish tinge that discoloured his formerly brilliant blue eyes.

''Claire?'' There was a look of terror on Leon's face. ''What's happening?''

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General Oscar Keller was walking slowly along an unlit corridor. The rhythmic click of his shoes echoed into the darkness. He stopped at a metal door. He reached for the handle but it was locked. He pulled out a small bunch of keys from his pocket. Selecting a square key from the bunch, he unlocked the door and entered a small, dimly lit warehouse. In the warehouse, cardboard and wooden boxes were stacked from the floor to the ceiling. Slowly, he walked into the centre of the room, struggling to avoid the boxes in the dim light.

''I've done what you asked.'' the General's quivering voice spoke into the darkness. ''The mission was a failure. The Methuselah is now sitting under fifty feet of water, in pieces.''

''Yes General, and you will be well compensated.'' a disembodied voice replied from the darkness.

''I don't want money. You know what I want.''

''Then you are the first man I have met that doesn't have a price.''

''Do you think I would betray my own team, _my own men_, for money?''

''You already have, General.'' The voice appeared closer.

Suddenly, a tall figure stepped out of the shadows only a few metres in front of him. The General's shoulders stiffened. He stood upright, trying not to show his fear.

''I've done everything that you asked Wesker, now where are they?''

''Yes, you have done your job exceptionally well so far. You have been a real asset, and you will be rewarded General.''

''I don't want anything from you.''

Wesker smiled cruelly. ''Of course you don't. But you know, I am loathe to let go someone as effective and loyal as yourself. You should rejoice as you are to be the hero General. You can go to Washington and declare that you have brought down an organisation engaged in illegal genetic activities.''

''But there's no evidence. You wanted the Methuselah to be destroyed.''

''You will get all the evidence you seek in Alaska.''

''I'm not doing this anymore.'' he said defiantly. ''You can do this yourself. Why do you need me?''

''While I admire your spirit general, I tire of repeating myself. You are to send Chris Redfield and his motley crew to Alaska. There is something there that I want.''

''No. I'm not going to risk anyone else's life…''

''Even your wife's?''

''How do I know you're not lying to me? How do I know you have her?''

Wesker threw a small object at General Keller. The general caught it in his right gloved hand. It was a ring, a solid gold wedding band, although the wedding band was still attached to the owner's ring finger. He dropped it in shock.

''You can read the inscription if you don't believe me.''

His hand shaking, Keller bent down and retrieved the finger, gently removing the gold ring. He read the inscription on the inside. ''You're a monster.'' Keller said through gritted teeth.

''Yes, I do believe I am.'' Wesker smiled. But the smile quickly disappeared to be replaced by a stony cold stare. ''You will do everything I tell you to do; otherwise I _will_ return your wife, piece by piece. She will pray for death.''

A lump formed in Keller's throat.

''What do you want me to do?''


	14. Chapter 14 The Noose

Disclaimer: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters, I am just a fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. I think I've taken a bit of a risk with the ending of this chapter, and I'm sure a lot of you will hate it, but hey, any constructive comments are always appreciated!!!

**Chapter 14 The Noose**

The soft blue glow of a large computer monitor lit a small portion of an otherwise dark room. All was quiet except for the furious typing of a computer keyboard and the rhythmic tapping of a foot against a hard concrete floor. There was a gentle rap on the door and the typing stopped.

"Enter.'' an emotionless masculine voice commanded.

A blast of bright artificial light which emanated from a rectangular hole that appeared on one side of the darkened room suddenly revealed the dour grey walls. Now the room was bathed in light, a highly polished stainless steel desk, stretching from one side of the room to the other, became visible. Situated in the middle of the desk was the massive computer monitor that was formerly the only source of light in the room, in addition to a keyboard and small communications console. The desk was otherwise devoid of any personal artefacts.

"Wesker, sir.'' a grey-haired, middle-aged man wearing a white lab coat spoke furtively as he shuffled into the room. He stopped about a metre in front of the desk and twitched, visibly uncomfortable under the glare of the dark grey-suited man sat behind the computer screen. Small beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. "You told me to inform you when they hit the Exley facility. It was about one hour ago.''

With his elbows planted on the table, Albert Wesker leaned forward and pressed his hands together, interlocking his black gloved fingers. "Excellent. It look's like the S.T.A.R.S are upping their pace.''

''Yes sir. The organisation's Alaska, Beckton and Exley labs, as well as the Methuselah, have all been compromised by the S.T.A.R.S in the past month. If they follow this pattern, they should hit the Barclay facility next and…''

"…and the organisation will barely be able to function.'' Wesker finished the other man's sentence. ''The shareholders will be displeased. I'm sure they are starting to understand the ramifications of not accepting my offer.'' The corners of his mouth upturned slightly into a self-satisfied grin. "And were the soldiers deployed?''

"Yes, a squad of ten. Early reports suggest that the S.T.A.R.S dealt with them quite efficiently though. They used incendiary grenades.''

There was a brief, uncomfortable silence as the grey haired man shifted his stance.

"Then we need to up the dosage.''

"But the side effects if we do...''

"That was not a suggestion.'' Wesker interrupted coldly, his face like stone. "What use are they if they are susceptible to fire? Increase the dosage by twenty five percent…no, make that fifty percent.''

"They're already unstable, mentally and physically.'' the other man pleaded. "Who knows what would happen if their dosage was increased. They went crazy at Exley and killed a lot of the staff who had surrendered. The same thing happened at Alaska and Beckton if you remember.''

"That does sound interesting. I want analysis of their combat data to be your priority. Pay particular attention to their brain activity and cellular reproduction rates. I want to know _exactly_ how that virus is working.''

The older man didn't seem to heed Wesker's request. He looked down towards the floor and began to mumble. "They didn't just kill them though. It was almost ritualistic, the way they eviscerated and arranged the bodies. I've heard that some of the victims took a while to die from their wounds…''

Wesker was aware of the scientist's malaise. "Do not grieve for the loss of your colleagues Dr Ross, in fact you should be rejoicing. If you were still with the organisation, you would be lying there next to them.''

Dr Ross looked at Wesker with horror.

"Your defection was an intelligent choice, particularly as you have a family." Wesker almost sneered.

Dr Ross took a deep breath. He had only been working for Albert Wesker a couple of months, but already he realised every conversation with his new employer was shrouded in barely-veiled threats and intimidation. It was one of the many reasons that drove him to leave his previous research post. The situation had always been difficult there. The genetic weapons research he was involved in was certainly illegal, but it was funded by very wealthy, very powerful men who were determined to protect their investments. He was rewarded handsomely, but things deteriorated rapidly when the head of genetic research was caught trying to defect to a rival company. Despite the organisation's best efforts to eliminate her, she surprised everyone and managed to escape into the custody of the S.T.A.R.S.

After the chief geneticists escape, it was as though no one left was trusted. He was constantly under surveillance, both at work and in his personal time with his family. He was also sure he was also under surveillance by the authorities. He knew he would go to prison for some of the things he had been involved in, and perhaps giving himself up in order to testify against the organisation was the only way to get out of it. However, these choices are not so simple when you have a family to consider. He could go to prison, but what would become of his wife and teenaged children?

At first, Albert Wesker seemed to offer him a way out. He promised him a new identity with a well paid job and access to the finest research facilities with no boundaries for the type of research he could perform. Wesker also unconditionally guaranteed the safety of his family. The work was challenging and like so many other scientists he had worked with, it was his love of genetics and his desire to push the limits of human understanding that made him ignorant of the moral implications of his research. Wesker had charged Ross with completing the work of his former colleague Dr Elisabeth Badley who, just over seven years ago while doing research for her PhD, had successfully devised a way to spontaneously repair and regenerate human cells. Despite her young age, she was a formidable scientist and probably one of the best, if not _the_ best, in her field. She had probably achieved more in a few years than most would achieve in a lifetime. Dr Ross vividly remembered her saying once that 'rules do not apply to people who are trying to change the world'. It was perhaps her inability to play by the rules that led to the closure of her US military research department. It may also have been the reason she had chosen to defect from the organisation, but he never knew for sure.

Dr Ross had never spoken to Elisabeth Badley about anything other than work; in fact, he remembered clearly that she didn't seem to have the capacity for small talk or the desire to learn anything about her co-workers. If he was honest, he was very much intimidated by her when they worked together, even though she was at least twenty years his junior. Even now, while trying desperately to complete her research, he was still intimidated by her even though she was not here, such was the enormity of his task. Unfortunately, Dr Ross had only been able to bring remnants of Elisabeth Badley's research to Wesker. She had been careful in not committing all of her secrets to pen or computer, for she correctly realised that she was only worth as much as other people didn't know.

"I think that it's only a matter of time before they stop following orders completely. Every time the gene is activated, every time they get injured, they seem to suffer severe mental degradation. It's almost like they don't understand the difference between right and wrong.''

"But they are soldiers, Dr Ross. Soldiers do not need to comprehend the difference between right and wrong. They only need to follow orders."

"But that's just it. It's almost like emotionally, they revert to a child-like state. They're like children who torture animals – they have no emotional connection with living things. They don't understand the consequences of their actions. They find it…_entertaining_."

"I trust the Alaska site has been cleansed?'' Wesker asked, suddenly changing the subject.

"Erm, yes. There's a crater a hundred metres across. To the general public, it will just look like a gas explosion.''

''Did they find the B.O.W?''

"Yes sir, they did. It was destroyed."

Wesker smiled coldly and leaned back in his chair. "Well, it looks like the S.T.A.R.S's new little spy is earning her keep. Was Dr Badley involved in the mission?"

"Err, yes sir. It would appear that they have accepted her into their team.''

"So quickly?'' Wesker sounded a little surprised. He leaned back in his chair, in deep thought.

"She's the only one who understands Lazarus; she's the only one who knows how to offset the mutation and control the soldiers. Without her…I've searched through her files and there _must _be something missing. Something important that makes the virus controllable, _predictable_. I don't think I can work it out." Dr Ross's voice trailed off.

"Are you sure she perfected the virus? I was assured that it was still in the experimental stage"

"Almost certainly, yes. The test subject at the organisation's lab – she appeared to have, _continues to have_, no obvious side affects other than acute memory loss, according to our source anyway. But I don't understand why. I've used the same strain of the virus and…well, the results were _different_."

"As Dr Badley is currently unavailable, I suggest you find out what is missing otherwise you will be of no more use to me." Wesker's harsh tone silenced Dr Ross, who just stared at him, open-mouthed.

Dr Ross nodded, realising that the conversation was now over. He turned and made for the exit as Wesker changed his focus to the computer screen in front of him. He began to type on the keyboard and a number of windows opened on the screen, each displaying lines of text accompanied by black and white photographs. He enlarged one of the windows to reveal official photographs of Jill Valentine and Chris Redfield in their S.T.A.R.S uniforms circa 1998.

"They may have resurrected you once…'' Wesker said, tapping the image on the screen with his index finger. "…but I wouldn't count on it happening again."

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Claire Redfield was sat hunched on a stool by the large stainless steel table in the middle of the kitchen, eating a bowl of pasta. In between mouthfuls, she took large gulps of milk from a large frosted glass beaker sat on a plastic placemat next to her bowl. She swallowed quickly and loudly, barely tasting the food.

"Well, I'm glad to see you're enjoying that. You never used to enjoy anything I fixed for you." Her brother Chris's tone was playful, although this couldn't mask the concerned look on his face. He was sitting on a stool directly opposite Claire with an untouched bowl of pasta in front of him and a stainless steel fork lying idly next to the bowl. Claire barely acknowledged his presence, concentrating only on the food in front of her.

"It's almost like old times isn't it, when you used to come back from college and…"

"I'll see you later." Claire interrupted as she swallowed the last mouthful and threw the fork down in the now-empty bowl. She picked up the half-filled glass of milk and headed for the door.

"Where are you going? I thought we could have a chat."

"About what?"

Chris shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, maybe we can talk about the last mission, it was a pretty tough one…''

"Chris, there are things I have to do, it's late and I'm tired. I'm going to the operations room to do my mission report and then I'm going to sleep.'' she said curtly, stunning Chris into silence. "You'll have to find someone else to talk to."

For the last four weeks, Chris had gone out of his way to improve the relationship with his sister. After the events of the Methuselah mission, Leon Kennedy's death and subsequent revival using the Lazarus virus, Claire had barely been able to tolerate being in the same room as her brother. Chris was furious that she had used the virus on Leon while not knowing what the effects might have been. After everything they had seen, how could she be so reckless? It was only then that he realised just how close she had become to Leon. He scolded himself, thinking that he should have known. Claire used to tell him everything but in the last six months, whenever she had gone to speak to him, he only half-listened as he was always concentrating on some mission or piece of intelligence.

Claire was the most important person in Chris's life – she always had been – but she had drifted away and he didn't know how to get her back. As the days after the Methuselah mission passed, he began to reason that the situation was partially his fault. If he knew then how much she cared for Leon, he could have foreseen what she was about to do, and maybe he could have prevented it. But then Leon would still be dead. Chris _was_ prepared to kill his colleague, his good friend, and maybe if Claire didn't stand between them that day he would have done so. He had done it before, back in the Spencer Mansion all those years ago when members of the S.T.A.R.S Alpha Team had become infected with the T-Virus and turned into the kind of mindless, ravenous creatures that you only meet in your nightmares. He swore that he would do everything he could to stop that happening to any of his team again. Claire never saw Leon's reanimated corpse as a threat. She was angry that Chris couldn't see that the man she loved had come back to her. Maybe he didn't want her to be happy. Maybe he didn't want her to be happy because he wanted someone to share his own unhappiness? She felt that he couldn't see _her_ any more, all he saw was a soldier, another tool in his quest to bring down his nemesis, Albert Wesker.

"How long are you going to keep this up?" Chris's tone of voice stopped Claire in her tracks.

She turned to face him.

"What? Keep what up?" she retorted, trying to act oblivious. This seemed to irritate him. Chris didn't like to play games.

"This silent treatment. It's been weeks. Why don't you just get it out of your system, shout at me, hit me, do whatever you need to do, but why can't you just move on?"

"Oh, so it's that easy is it? To sit down and talk out all of our problems, get them out in the open?'' She laughed sarcastically. "Don't make me laugh. How many times in the last six months have you sat down and talked to me?"

"This isn't about me, this is about you!" exasperated, he threw his arms in the air. He stood up and began to walk around the table towards Claire.

"You'll never understand will you Chris?" she said, steadying her voice. "It's always been about you."

"Claire, I'm really trying here. If you don't tell me what I have to do..."

"I shouldn't have to tell you."

"This is about Leon, right? You're still angry with me."

"You were going to kill him!''

"I didn't knew who, _or what_, was going to get up from that bed. Listen, we don't understand how, or why, that virus works. We don't know what's going to happen to Leon. There may be side effects we don't know about yet. He could still be dangerous."

"I heard you talking with Elisabeth in the corridor. You knew you could have saved him but you didn't. You _chose_ to let him die."

"I couldn't be sure…"

"What if it was me, lying there dead? Would you have used Lazarus on me?"

"I don't…"

"Would you?" she shouted. "It's a simple question. Yes or no. Would you have tried to bring me back?"

Chris stared at her and slowly moved his head side to side. "I don't know..." he murmured. "…and I hope that I never do."

Claire's bottom lip quivered. "Then I guess that's the difference between you and me." She took a step closer to her brother so that she was less than a metre in front of him. "I would do anything to keep you. _Anything_. Right or wrong. I've lost too many people this past few years, and I'm damned if I'm going to lose anyone else, especially when I have the means to save them."

"You remember what happened to Jimmy McGarver, right? He had no control over himself. And those 'supersoldiers' that seem to appear everywhere we go right now? Do you really want that for Leon?"

"Then why didn't you kill Jill when she was infected? She still could be. Why don't you go down to her room and put _her_ out of her misery?"

"Don't change the subject. Jill's fine and you know it. Rebecca's done every test there is, and Jill's perfectly normal."

"Then why can't Leon be fine?" Claire snapped. "Rebecca's done all the same tests on him, and she says he's normal too."

"But there's a difference Claire."

"What? What's so different?"

"Leon was dead. He was _dead_. When you're dead, you're dead. There's no coming back. That guy – he may look like Leon, sound like him, smell like him – but it can't be him because _I saw him die_. That's why I don't want you to be around him. Not until I'm sure that…"

"So that's it. It's because of my feelings for him."

"You've lost me Claire."

"You're using this as an excuse to stop your little sister getting it on with a guy that you don't approve of. Pathetic. I'm not eighteen anymore Chris. I don't need you to protect me."

"That's not what this is about, and you know it."

"Well, don't worry Chris. Leon hates me now, so there's no chance of your little sister walking into the sunset with one of the undead. From now on, I'm going to be just like you - cold and alone. So you won't have to worry about me anymore."

"Claire, this is ridiculous. Why don't you calm down and give me a chance to explain. I've only ever wanted the best for this team, _for you_, and it's my job to keep you all..."

"This conversation is over. Like I said, I have a lot to do and I'm tired." She turned angrily and reached for the kitchen door handle.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry. About everything." Chris said quietly.

Claire stopped for a moment, her hand in mid-air. She had never heard him sound so sincere. For that moment, she wanted to turn around and hug him. She wanted to go back to the way things were, before 1998, before all this horror was unleashed on the world. But she wasn't that that young, naïve girl anymore. There are some things that once you have seen them, you can never go back to the way things were before. And there are some things that once said, can never be taken back.

Claire left the kitchen. As the door swung shut behind her, Chris collapsed back down on the stool and held his head in his hands.

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"It's closer, but it's still not quite right." Dr Elisabeth Badley looked up from the binocular microscope towards Rebecca. "It starts to work, but somehow it breaks down. I think the mutation in Wesker's D.N.A has a kind of self defence mechanism."

"It wants to live." Rebecca replied.

"It's genius. It can respond to almost any threat." Elisabeth smiled as she spoke, her eyes widening. She was always in awe of the genetic research performed by Wesker and his cohorts. They always seemed so fearless. That is how progress is made she thought.

"How long before it breaks down?" Rebecca asked, running her hand through her soft red hair.

"Three minutes. Maximum."

"That's too small a window of opportunity. We need longer."

"I know Rebecca, but I'm running out of ideas here."

Rebecca Chambers stood up from the chair sat by the small desk that was pushed against the far wall in her lab. Other than Elisabeth and herself, the S.T.A.R.S medical wing was deserted, and every noise they made echoed down the tiled corridors. She walked around the room, her arms crossed, in deep thought.

Elisabeth sat back in her chair, stretched her arms and yawned loudly. She glanced across at the large clock on the wall. It was 2 AM.

"Wow, we've been in here for over eighteen hours. No wonder I feel so tired."

There was no response from the other woman, who still in deep thought. Elisabeth swung her chair around so that she was now facing Rebecca.

"So, what were Leon Kennedy's latest test results?"

Rebecca stopped dead and looked up.

"Why are you so interested?"

"I just wondered, that's all. If I'm honest, I suppose you could say that I'm curious."

"Physically, Leon's doing okay."

"I've heard he's doing more than okay."

"Well, his metabolism is slightly higher than normal, he's fit and strong – he could run a marathon if he wanted to without any problems. It's almost like nothing ever happened."

"What else?"

"What do you mean, what else? There is nothing else."

"You said physically he's okay, what else?"

"I don't think I should be discussing this with you."

"Listen, if there are any problems, then maybe I'm the person who should know about it. I mean, I designed it, it only worked on Leon because of me, because of the changes I made to the master Lazarus samples here, in the lab. If there are any problems, I may be able to fix them."

"Let's just say that he's having a little trouble reconciling the fact that he was dead and is now alive."

"He'll get over it. He's got a second chance. That's more than most people get in life."

"Yes, but at what cost?"

Elisabeth raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"The rest of the S.T.A.R.S don't really trust him anymore. Leon told me they look down at the floor when they pass him in the corridor. They dart into rooms when they see him walking towards them, just so they don't have to talk. No one wants to go on a mission with him."

"Well that's just ridiculous. Leon is better than he ever was. He's…_perfect_ now."

"Maybe so, but perfection comes at a price. We just don't know what that price is yet."

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Claire was replaying the argument with Chris in her head as she walked down the corridor towards the operation room. It was a shame that their first conversation in nearly a month did nothing to ease the tension between them. She had finally said want she had wanted to say to Chris, but she didn't feel any better for it. In fact, she felt worse. Just like her brother, she was stubborn and had a tendency to say exactly was on her mind, often without thinking of the consequences. She was aware that the tension between them was felt across the team and it was beginning to make things awkward. It was only when she reached the door for the operations room that she realised how difficult it must have been for Chris to take the initiative and try talk to her, and to try and clear the air between them. Perhaps that was the only chance they would get. She missed him.

She pushed the thoughts of Chris to the back of her mind when she entered the operations room and noticed Jill sat cross-legged at a computer terminal. Her hair was messy and there was a partially-eaten sandwich sat on the desk in front of her. Jill was staring intently at the computer screen and didn't notice Claire as she walked across and stood behind her.

"Jill, what are doing in here at this time?"

Slightly startled, Jill swivelled the chair around so she could face Claire. "Hey Claire."

Claire took a swig from the glass of milk she was still carrying. "Are you still not sleeping well?"

Jill nodded. "I don't enjoy sleeping much right now. Besides, I wanted to make sure you guys got back okay."

"Bad dreams?"

Jill shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I can't tell if they're bad dreams or memories."

Claire then sat the glass down on the desk and turned to look at the computer monitor. "What are you looking at? Is this Chris's report on the Mexico incident?"

Jill was pleased to change the subject. "You know that I've spent the last few weeks looking for a relationship between the Mexico incident back in 2002 and the Methuselah?"

"Well good luck. I tried to find a relationship, but there's just too much information, and so much has happened recently that…well, it didn't seem so important."

"I understand, but I think I've found something. You were the one that noticed that there are huge similarities between what Chris saw in Mexico and what you've been seeing recently in these new research laboratories."

"You mean that _particularly_ twisted way people are being killed?" Claire shuddered at the thought of what she had just seen on the latest mission. It was like the other labs - the bodies of scientists, security guards and administration staff had been decapitated and purposefully arranged in a number of locations around the complex. It was no coincidence that the S.T.A.R.S had encountered the supersoldiers again. Claire reasoned that they must have been the ones responsible.

"Yes. Up until now, every bioweapon we've encountered has been a violent, mindless killer. No method, just chaos. Yet there was something different about Mexico, it was the first time there seemed to be a method to the madness. The way the bodies were desecrated and arranged…that took time, and organisation. It certainly couldn't have been done by one person."

"But what I don't understand is why? Why pick on a small border town in the middle of nowhere? There's no laboratory there, not that we know of anyway. It's just too random."

"Maybe it was test."

"Okay, but of what?"

"I think Mexico was an early version of Lazarus."

"_Lazarus_? So you think _she_ was responsible for the Mexico incident?"

"I don't know if she was personally responsible, but I'm certain it was Lazarus. There's no other explanation. We've seen nothing else like it."

"She does seem to know an awful lot about it. Was she working with the organisation then?"

Jill began to type on the keyboard and a small window appeared on the computer screen. A photograph of Elisabeth Badley appeared at the top of a several pages of text detailing her personal history. "No. According to her file, she was still with the military."

"So someone on the military base stole it?"

"It's a possibility. She said she developed the virus while working at the Alaska military research base. Maybe someone got greedy. Military salaries aren't that great. We should know."

"This stinks of Wesker." Claire said through gritted teeth.

"Maybe. But there's another piece to this puzzle that I can't figure out."

"The diplomat."

"Yes. For a start, why was he left alive?"

"I thought he was dead?"

"Apparently he killed himself in custody. He blew his brains out in an interrogation room. Seems that whatever he saw in that village drove him to it."

"Somebody was making a point…" Claire's voice trailed off, while Jill nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes. There's a reason he was singled out. There was a reason he was made to watch those people be tortured and murdered, and there was a reason he was left alive to talk about it. For a while at least."

"What?"

"Chris doesn't think he killed himself. He said there was no way he could have stolen that gun while in custody, mentally he was a mess."

"So someone killed him?"

"Probably, but that someone would have had to infiltrate a Special Forces base. There aren't many people out there who can do that."

"It looks like he got involved with the wrong people…"

"Maybe, but unfortunately, the diplomat's file has been erased, and all that exists is basic data. However, I do know that he came from a _very_ prestigious family and he had a future in the senate laid out for him. This guy was going places. I think if we can find out why his file was erased, we're going to find out who's been running the show."

"We already know it's Wesker – he's always involved."

"Oh, I have no doubt he's involved, but I just have this feeling that there's someone else. Someone close. And that they're using us. Anyway…" Jill switched off the computer monitor and slapped her knees. "I know you're all back safe, so I'm off to bed. You should get some rest too."

"Yeah. I thought I'd write up my mission report first."

"You avoiding going to sleep too?"

Claire looked at Jill, confused.

"I take it things are still bad between you and Chris?"

Claire looked down and sighed. "We just had an argument."

"Well, an argument is better than the one syllable responses you guys have perfected this past few weeks..."

Claire smiled. "Maybe. I just don't know how to get past this." Claire tensed. "Whenever I look at him – I just…oh, I don't know. Maybe we just need some time apart."

"You've got to sort this out Claire. He's your brother. He would never do anything to hurt you, not on purpose. I know that when he thinks he's doing things for your own good, he sometimes ends up pissing you off, but he means well. He's a good man.''

Claire rolled her eyes.

"He was worried – rightfully so – that Leon had come back different. And before you say anything, it was the same with me too. You didn't think those guards were posted outside my door to protect me from anyone did you? They were there to protect _you_ from _me_, should the need have arisen."

"But he was going to kill him. For a minute, I thought he was going to shoot me too…"

"Now you can't believe that. You're the one person he cares about most in this world. He would never do anything to hurt you."

"But you're alright Jill. You look good, you feel good – you're practically back to your old self."

"Maybe so, but just like Chris said, we don't really know all that there is to know about the Lazarus virus yet. All we know is what Elisabeth Badley has told us. I couldn't tell you if she was telling us everything or not."

"Do you think she's hiding something from us?"

"I don't know. I really don't know. But what I do know, is that if anything _does_ happen to me, if I do change, you'll do what has to be done."

"Don't speak like that."

"We have to be realistic Claire."

"I understand Jill." Claire said sadly.

There was a long silence.

"He won't talk to me."

"Leon?"

Claire nodded. "He hasn't really spoken to me since…well, since after the Methuselah mission. Well, that's not entirely true I suppose. He says hello, good morning, good night – always polite. He speaks to me, but he doesn't say anything to me anymore. I don't know what to do. I've tried to talk to him alone, but there is always something – he has to talk to Chris or he has to be checked over again by Rebecca. He's avoiding me."

"I think I know how he's feeling – in a way anyway.''

"Then I wish you'd tell me because I just don't understand him now."

"When I woke up in the medical wing here, I had no idea what had happened. To me, it felt like I'd had a long, heavy sleep. But after I found out that I had been exposed to that virus, I don't quite know how to say it…I just felt _different_. Cold. I knew how I should feel about people. But it was almost like those feelings belonged to someone else. It was like waking up with an identity that wasn't mine. Everything I said, every I did, it was almost automatic, it was what I knew Jill Valentine would say or do."

"What about now?"

"Those feelings are still there, somewhere, but being around you all again…well, it quickly made me remember who I am."

Claire smiled at Jill, but her face quickly fell. "He hates me, for what I did."

"Did he say that?''

"No but…"

"Maybe he doesn't agree with what you did, but I'm sure he understands why you did it."

"I don't think he does, otherwise why is he ignoring me? He thinks that I should have let him die, that I should have let Chris kill him. I don't know what's worse Jill…" A single tear formed in Claire's left eye. "…watching the man you love die, or not being able to be with him while he's alive."

"Oh Claire…"

"I tried so hard not to let myself feel anything for him because I knew no good could come of it. Well, I was right to think that. I'm so angry with myself for letting this happen."

"Well, you can't change what's happened. Not now." Jill replied.

"We can't have relationships. We're all going to be alone. We're going to die alone." Claire replied bitterly.

"Oh, don't be so melodramtic Claire! Listen, I don't know what to do, I haven't got any advice to give you because I can't even pretend to know how you're feeling, but I _do_ have a feeling things are going to be okay."

"Why?"

"I don't know why, I just do. We've got through worse before."

"I wish I shared your optimism Jill. I really do."

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Leon Kennedy was running on a treadmill in the S.T.A.R.S gym while loud music reverberated off the mirrored walls. He stared hard at himself in the mirrors as he ran. He was looking for something different in the mirror, something tangibly unfamiliar. On the outside, he looked the same as he always did – fairly tall with a strong athletic physique, short blonde hair and blue eyes. The only oddities were the tiny pink flecks in his brilliant blue irises, although these were becoming fewer as each day passed.

Leon's attention was diverted to the gym door that he saw opening slowly in the mirror. He was slightly surprised to see Elisabeth Badley enter. She looked around the room before she slowly approached him.

"Leon. I was wondering how you were doing." she said as he came to a standstill next to him.

"What, at 2.30am?" he replied before increasing the speed of the treadmill. His breathing intensified as he brushed his sweat-soaked blond hair back from his face.

"Rebecca said you were having a few _issues_. I thought that maybe I could help."

"And how exactly can you help me?"

"Well, you can think of me as a neutral ear if there's anything you want to talk about."

"Yeah right. Did someone send you?"

"No – this is just a coincidence. I've been in the lab so long that I thought a quick workout would help me relax a bit before I go to bed."

Leon regarded her outfit in the mirror. She certainly looked like she was dressed for the gym - she was wearing shorts, a t-shirt and trainers, but it was certainly no coincidence that she was here.

Elisabeth gestured towards the treadmill adjacent to Leon.

"Do you mind?" she asked.

"Go ahead." he replied nonchalantly.

Elisabeth climbed on the treadmill and roughly tied back her blond hair with a red elastic band. She set the speed and inclination and began to jog. After a few moments, she progressively increased the speed to match Leon stride for stride. This made Leon smile. What was she trying to prove?

"So, are you and Rebecca still busy playing God then?" he asked.

"If you're talking about...our mission to bring down Wesker…yes." she said between heavy breaths. The quick pace Leon had set was intense.

"Well good luck. I suppose that's what you're good at. Argh!" Leon suddenly gasped and pulled up. He slammed the emergency stop switch on the treadmill and grabbed his side.

"What's wrong?" Elisabeth asked as she pressed the emergency stop on her treadmill, and rushed across to Leon.

"It's just a twinge in my back." he grimaced.

"I'm not surprised." Elisabeth said glancing at the L.E.D display. "You've been running for over two hours at this pace. You're going to give yourself a heart attack. Come here - let me see."

Before Leon could protest, she slipped her hand underneath his t-shirt and felt the tender area. He flinched.

"That hurts."

"You've pulled a muscle. I can help this. Lie down." She ordered while gesturing to a padded mat on the floor. Leon lay face down on the mat, suddenly feeling very self conscious. Elisabeth knelt down next to him and pushed up his t-shirt. Using both her hands, she began to gently massage the tightened muscles of his lower back. She could sense Leon was tense and probably very uncomfortable.

"So…" she began. "How are you feeling? Really."

"Why do you want to know? Why do you even care?"

"I guess I want to know if it works…and contrary to what you might think, I _do_ care. You're a good soldier. The S.T.A.R.S need you."

"Maybe you've not been paying too much attention recently, but I'm a little out of favour at the moment."

"Just give them time. It's an unusual situation, but once they see that you're still you, and what you can do now…"

"I was dead.''

She stopped massaging him for a moment.

"But you're not now. You're alive. You've been given another chance." She returned to massaging his lower back. Slowly her hands crept up his spine. Leon breathed deeply and closed his eyes. She could sense he was more relaxed now. "So how do you feel? _Really_."

"Apart from my back, I feel great. Really good. I feel like I'm in better shape than I've ever been. I can run faster, hit harder, aim better…"

"So why have you distanced yourself from everyone?"

"I think it's more like the other way around. Chris has taken me off mission. The other guys avoid me like the plague. They think I'm going to turn into something…"

"What about Claire?" she asked softly, her hands were now gently rubbing his shoulder blades.

"When someone does something…you know that they only did it for the best, but it was the wrong decision...'' Leon paused.

"Go on."

"Nah, it doesn't matter, not anymore anyway. Sometimes you see a side of someone that really scares you, makes you realise just how far they'll go, no matter the consequences. Life is hard enough without having to deal with that.''

Elisabeth lent forward and began to massage Leon's shoulders. "I know what you're really feeling." she whispered in his left ear.

"Enlighten me."

"It's called guilt."

"Guilt? Yeah, right."

"Yes, it's guilt. You're alive, when you should be dead. It was your time after all. You died valiantly, doing your duty. It was the right way for a soldier to die."

"And what does this have to do with guilt?"

"You feel guilty because you were brought back. Be honest Leon. Do you want to die as an old man, falling asleep in your favourite chair or do you want to die in a blaze of glory, fighting impossible odds? You see, we're so alike Leon, you and I. We can't have a quiet life. We need to be on the edge. And you have to pay the price for that."

Leon pushed himself up to his knees while Elisabeth sat back.

"You don't know me as well as you think you do.'' Leon said softly, moving his face closer to hers.

"Yes, I do." she whispered.

Leon reached forward and removed the red band that secured Elisabeth's hair. He gently ran his hand through the wavy blond mass as it fell softly around her face. He then leaned forward slowly and nuzzled into her neck. As he breathed in her subtle scent, a warm feeling coursed through his body. His hands began to explore her toned shoulders and firm back.

Elisabeth sighed. "Are you sure you want to do this?" she said quietly.

Leon sat back on his knees and looking directly into Elisabeth's green eyes, he nodded. "I'm sure."

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	15. Chapter 15 Bullet with butterflies wings

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters, I am just a fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. After some good advice (thanks Squirrel54!), I made a few subtle changes to the previous chapter that makes it read a little different. Thanks for being patient and coming back to read this. It's getting harder to dedicate enough time to this story, but it is getting closer to the end now so hopefully just a couple more weeks…. As always, I would appreciate any feedback (even if it's just to say if you liked or hated it).

**Chapter 15 Bullet with butterflies wings**

Leon opened his eyes. It was a few moments before they adjusted to the darkness. The only light that penetrated the gloom came from a small chink between the curtains that were hung haphazardly in front of the single window on the far side of the room. He realised he was lying in a bed, someone else's bed, as the mattress was much softer than his own. He suddenly became aware of a warm body hidden under the sheets next to him. Slowly he pushed himself up to a seated position and glanced at the sleeping figure that shifted slightly and let out a short, high pitched sigh. Carefully, Leon reached forwards and pushed the sheet back a few inches to reveal a full head of mid-length blonde hair that virtually covered the white pillow beneath. Leon closed his eyes and breathed in sharply.

A voice in his head scolded him. "_Oh Christ Kennedy, what did you do this time?"_

Delicately pushing back the sheet on his side of the bed, Leon tried not to awaken the sleeping shape next to him. He then realised he was completely naked. The cold air felt uncomfortable on his skin as he hurriedly searched the floor with his finger tips for the clothing that he had so carelessly discarded a few hours ago. He dressed quickly and scurried across to the door. He turned the handle slowly and poked his head out a few inches into the brightness of the corridor. Sure that it was deserted, he darted out of the foreign room and quickly made his way back to his own.

Leon closed the door to his room behind him and locked it. He turned and leant back against the heavy wood. He groaned as he slid to the floor, holding his head in his hands. He was certain that no one had seen him, but that didn't excuse his actions. He knew he'd been out of sorts these past few weeks – doing things and saying things he never normally would, always feeling short tempered - but he felt powerless to stop himself.

His body felt heavy as he pushed himself to his feet with an effort. He ran his fingers through his hair. It was slightly damp and lank – he realised suddenly that he had been sweating heavily. He walked across the room, straight past his meticulously made-up bed, towards the small en-suite bathroom on the far side. He turned on the shower, turning the temperature dial to its hottest setting. The room rapidly began to fill with steam as hot water poured out of the regular perforations in the stainless steel showerhead. In the corner of his eye, Leon caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror that was situated on the white tiled wall above a small ivory coloured wash basin. The droplets of condensation on the mirror slightly distorted his face. He turned to face the mirror and with one sweep, wiped away the beads of water.

He hastily pulled off his clothes and threw them to the floor in the corner of the bathroom and yanked open the plain white shower curtain. Just before he got into the shower cubicle, he heard a loud knock on the main door to his room. He stood still for a moment and listened. He could hear an exasperated intake of breath and feet shifting in the corridor. There was another knock, only this time it was louder and more persistent. Leon reached to his side and slammed the bathroom door shut.

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"What do you think?" Jill leaned forward in her chair whilst resting her elbows on her knees. "Chris – what do you think?" she repeated after there was no response.

Chris Redfield was sat on a chair behind the desk in his office. The main fluorescent strip light on the office ceiling was switched off. Instead, the room was lit by a soft white light that emanated from a free standing lamp in one corner. Jill noticed that the light softened Chris's features and seemed to erase some of the worry that had been emblazoned on his furrowed brow these past few weeks. He was scanning through pages of text on Jill's laptop screen in front of him, his eyes darting side to side. He then switched his attention to a pile of papers and photographs scattered across the desk.

"I know you hate to talk about this, but I had to show you what Claire and I uncovered. You know that we've been investigating the events from your Mexico mission in '02, and comparing it with data we recovered from the servers at the organisation's facilities. _Particularly Alaska_."

"I know Jill. They're linked." Chris didn't look up as he spoke. He continued to look through the scattered papers.

"If you knew they were linked, then why didn't you say something before?"

Chris shrugged. "It was just a hunch. I was hoping to be wrong, but I know you're right. Mexico was the start. I knew back then that there was something happening, something much worse than before. That was why I was approached by Keller."

Jill sat back and crossed her arms.

"The one piece of the puzzle I didn't understand was the diplomat."

Chris looked up. "You mean James Carter?"

"Yes. What do you know about him?"

A shadow seemed to pass over Chris's face as his mind was forcibly cast back to that fateful mission. "I found him hiding in the village. He was alive, but in a bad way, totally incoherent. He wasn't really hurt, but his mind was gone. Whatever he saw, it _really_ scared him."

"But why was he left alive? In all the facilities we've been to in the last six months there were no survivors."

"I think Mexico was a demonstration."

"That's what I think too." Jill replied, nodding fervently. "I've been finding out more about him, but he's like a ghost. For someone who came from such a prestigious family, there's actually very little information about him out there."

"He was a senator's son. A rich kid. Grew up with a life of privilege, knowing that he was never going to have to struggle for anything." Chris scowled. "Some people are just born lucky."

"Well, he wasn't so lucky in the end, was he?" Jill dead-panned. "Anyway, Claire managed to access a few restricted military servers…"

Chris smiled. His sister was smart.

"…it turns out that he _was_ working for the military and his diplomat position was just a front. He worked for the acquisitions department. Let's just say that he decided how to spend money on our country's more _unethical_ activities."

Chris rolled his eyes. "So he was a bad guy?"

"Maybe. But this is the interesting part." Jill leaned forward towards Chris's desk and shuffled through the pile of photographs. She pulled out one of a smiling middle-aged man, immaculately dressed in a well-fitted dark grey suit. He was standing in what appeared to be an art gallery while holding a glass of champagne.

Chris looked at the photo and then at Jill. "This is his father, Senator Ephraim Carter. One of the country's richest men and a bit of an asshole if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes, that's him." Jill chuckled. From the accounts she had read, Ephraim Carter's massive arrogance was matched only by his wealth. "I decided to do a little bit of research on him too. It turns out that back in the seventies he was a very close friend of Oswald Spencer…"

Chris hutched himself forwards so that he was sitting on the edge of his seat. "Go on."

"They had a massive falling out, and they parted ways over twenty years ago. Spencer, as we know, went on to create Umbrella but Carter _seemed_ to change direction. He went into politics and became a senator."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?

Jill nodded. "I think he set up a rival organisation."

"Can we tie him to any of the labs?"

"Not directly, he's smart." She shook her head sadly. "We can't connect him to anything yet. But, there's one more thing. It turns out that he fancied himself as a bit if an oil magnate."

"_What do you mean?_"

"He's well known for being a bit of a philanthropist and he bought a small oil exploration outfit. They've had a rig out in the gulf since the seventies. It's pretty isolated because the big companies pulled out from the area a long time ago. It just wasn't economical. His well has barely produced a drop of crude oil in the last thirty years."

Chris smiled. "This is it, isn't it?"

Jill smiled broadly in response. "I think it's a good candidate. I think we've found their headquarters."

Chris stood up quickly. "We're going to bring them down."

The smile was suddenly erased from Jill's face. "There's one more thing. And this isn't good."

Chris's shoulders dropped. "What is it?"

"Look at this." Jill pulled out a folded black and white photograph from her pocket and handed it to Chris.

Chris unfolded the photograph. He sighed and squeezed his eyes closed. "Has anyone else seen this?"

"No. I wanted you to see it first. You have to decide what to do."

Chris opened his eyes and looked again at the photograph, hoping that what he saw the first time was a mistake. But no, the picture hadn't changed. It was a photograph of Senator Ephraim Carter shaking the hand of General Oscar Keller, his superior officer. Both men were wearing casual clothes and appeared to be at a party. Their relaxed stances suggested they knew each other and were comfortable in each other's company.

"The last person to see James Carter alive was Oscar Keller." Chris said slowly.

Jill gasped. "Do you think…"

"That Keller got to him?" Chris folded the photograph and put it in his pocket. "I hope not Jill. For all our sakes, I hope not."

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Leon was walking down the corridor towards the S.T.A.R.S conference room where he had been summoned by Chris half an hour before. He had no idea why. Chris gave him no explanation, so Leon decided he wouldn't rush to get there.

A few metres in the distance, he noted two S.T.A.R.S members in casual clothes walking towards him. The moment they spotted him, they looked at each other and quickened their pace. The taller of the two men said something inaudible to his colleague, who smirked in response. They fixed their gazes on Leon as they got closer and eventually passed him.

"If you have something to say, just say it!" Leon bellowed down the corridor.

The shorter man turned around to face Leon and looked like he was about to say something. However, his colleague grabbed him by the shoulder and moved his head side to side while quietly mouthing "No.".

"Yeah, that's right. RUN AWAY!" Leon shouted while dismissing them with a wave of his hand. "I don't know how you dare call yourselves S.T.A.R.S!"

The shorter man turned and started to walk back along the corridor towards Leon, although again, his friend grabbed his shoulder and held him back.

"Come on then!" Leon said with a swagger while hold his arms out by his side.

It was the other man's turn to dismiss Leon as he pulled himself from his colleagues grip and walked away while muttering under his breath. Although Leon couldn't hear everything, he was sure he heard the word 'freak'. This was the third time this week he'd had a problem, and he was beginning to get tired of it. Snide comments, rude stares and gestures – but no one would say anything to his face.

He tried to push the latest incident to the back of his mind when he finally reached the door for the conference room. He reached out for the handle and took a deep breath before turning it. The door clicked open. He walked in, slightly surprised to find Jill, Carlos, Claire, Rebecca and Elisabeth sitting around the large hard wood table. They were deep in discussion and didn't notice him enter.

"But I don't understand why this man would put his own son in danger." Carlos said, sounding slightly bemused. "It doesn't make sense."

"He doesn't sound like the nicest guy in the world." Rebecca added. "Did you ever read about how he managed to get those charges against that petrochemical company that polluted that river cleared? Apparently a lot of the local population ended up getting sick…"

"It doesn't matter." Jill replied. "All that matters now is that we've found the organisation's headquar…"

"Nice of you to join us Leon."

Leon looked across the room to see Chris standing on the far side, half in shadow, his arms crossed defensively in front of him. Leon was unaccustomed to Chris's slightly sarcastic tone. He shrugged and sat down on the nearest seat between Carlos and Elisabeth. In the corner of his eye, he noticed Claire glaring in his direction. He turned his head to face her, and she immediately shifted her focus towards her brother.

Chris leaned forwards on the table, his outstretched arms taking a large portion of his weight. In turn, he looked each one of his colleagues directly in the eyes. "I know things have been difficult recently. We've had to make some tough decisions. But you have got to trust me, because if you don't, you might as well walk out of that door right now."

There was silence as everyone listened intently to Chris's words.

"We've got a chance now to end this. If this really is their HQ, we can gather all the evidence we need before we blow it to hell."

"Well, you can count me in!" Carlos broke the silence.

"Wait. Before you make your decision, there's something else you need to know."

"What?" Carlos replied impatiently.

"We have to do this alone. No one outside of this room will know where we are going. _No one._ So if we fail…"

"But why? Everyone here in this building can be trusted."

Chris ignored Carlos's response. "We need to hit with a small team, and fast. Leon…"

Leon jerked his head in Chris's direction. "Yeah?"

"I want you to come. You too Jill. I want you both back on the team for this mission."

Leon smiled, but his smile quickly disappeared. "Why now? Why this mission?"

"Do you want to come back on the team or don't you?"

"Yes." Leon and Jill replied in unison.

"Right. We go tonight. I wanted everyone ready by 20:00 hours."

"There's something I have to say." Leon stood up slowly and cleared his throat. He felt every pair of eyes in the room burning into him. "This mission…will be my last a member of the S.T.A.R.S. I'm leaving." He spoke quickly, almost as though he wanted to say the words before he had chance to change his mind. He glanced towards Chris, waiting for his response.

"But why? We need you here Leon." Rebecca said.

Claire remained silent.

"Come on Rebecca, surely you've noticed the way people have been behaving around me. Because I certainly have. They're scared of me. No one here wants to work with me."

"That's not true."

"Anyway, I work better alone. After all…" he smiled at Rebecca. "…once you've destroyed this place, I don't think the organisation will ever recover."

"If that's your decision Leon, I respect that." Chris said. Leon looked confused at Chris's short, curt response. "Okay, I want you all to go over the mission plan. I want no mistakes out there. Rebecca, Elisabeth – I want to meet you in the lab in ten minutes."

The two women nodded.

"I'll see the rest of you later." Chris said over his shoulder as he hurried out of the room. Carlos, Elisabeth, Jill and Rebecca quickly followed him.

Claire and Leon were left in the conference room alone. Leon shuffled uncomfortably towards the door when he realised this, but Claire quickened her step and overtook him.

"Leon, stop. I want to talk to you." she said firmly.

"I think I've said all I need to say, just let it go." Leon said, casually waving her away.

Claire stood in the doorway blocking his exit. "Well I haven't said what I wanted to say, so you're going to stay here and listen to me."

Leon relented, taking a step backwards. "Okay. But I've made my decision Claire. Please don't try to talk me out of it."

"I want to know what's going on."

Leon just looked at her and shook his head slowly. "I don't know what…"

"Between me and you." she interrupted, her tone unrelenting.

"There is no me and you Claire. There never was." His voice sounded emotionless, like he was reading words from a script.

"Before…" Claire bit her bottom lip and clenched her fists, trying to calm a swell of anger that had been gestating in her stomach ever since Leon had declared his intention to leave. "…before the Methuselah mission, you said you wanted me."

Leon shrugged his shoulders. "I guess things have changed."

Claire snapped. "The only thing that's changed here is your attitude. And I'm sick of it! I've tried to give you time and space, but I don't know what else I can do. I don't even know what I've done wrong because you won't talk to me!" Her voice was raised now. Any resolve she had made to remain calm was long gone.

"You don't understand Claire." Leon's voice was barely audible.

"I'm trying to understand Leon, I really am. _But you just won't talk to me!_" She took a deep breathe. "Tell me what's going on in there."

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes!" Claire struggled to regain control of her voice. "Talk to me. Please." she said, more calm now.

Leon turned slowly and walked back towards the centre of the room. He perched against the edge of the conference room table, his shoulders slouched and head bowed so that his blond hair fell forwards, hiding the brilliant blue of his eyes. He spoke gently, half whispering.

"The last thing I remember from the mission is being under water." He paused, and hopped up onto the table. "It felt like my lungs were being crushed, they were on fire. I struggled, I could feel the rope tightening around my ankle, but no matter how hard I pulled, I couldn't get free. I have never felt scared in my whole life Claire. _Never_. I've always known that no matter what happens, I can take care of myself. But back there, I just knew that I was going to die, and there was nothing I could do about it. Do you know how that feels?"

Claire walked across to the table and sat down next to him. "No. I don't."

"But suddenly I felt _okay_. Calm almost. It was dark and I couldn't move, but I could hear your voice. Chris's too You were shouting at me to come back, you sounded upset, but I couldn't do anything. I just didn't fight it. The next thing I remember is Chris pointing a gun at me…ready to kill me. I didn't know why."

"But why haven't you said this to me before? Why have you been behaving like such an ass? I know what you did Leon. Last night. I saw you sneaking out of her room, and you thought no one saw you. _Were you trying to hurt me?_"

Leon's head snapped up. He turned his head to look directly at Claire. "I don't know what I was trying to do. It just hap…"

"Because you have Leon." she interrupted. "You've hurt me a lot. I don't understand why you hate me so much."

"I'm not sure why I did it." Leon pushed himself off the table and began to pace up and down the room. "When I look in the mirror, I don't recognise the man who I see looking back at me. No, no, that's not what I mean. I know it's me, but…something's different. I don't want you to be around me."

"Oh. So you did it for my own good? You were trying to drive me away?" Claire laughed sarcastically. "Wow. I've never heard that one before. In fact, that's probably the most gutless thing I've ever heard. And it surprises me, to hear it coming from you."

"Hey, it's not like we were together!" Leon spat, driving forwards into Claire's face, his fists clenched. Claire could see his chest heaving up and down as his heart raced and his cheeks became flushed. She quickly leaned back and away from Leon, shocked at his sudden change in temperament. Leon immediately noticed the look on Claire's face and stepped back. He looked away, ashamed. "I'm sorry. It's just that you'd let me in a little bit and then push me away. How am I supposed to know how you _really_ feel about me when the signals change from one minute to the next?"

"That was because I was worried." Claire slammed her fists on the hard wooden table.

"About what?"

"Something like this happening. Because I knew that once we crossed that line, there was no going back. Not just for us, but for the whole team."

"So what changed?"

"It was only when I lost you that I realised how I really felt about you."

"So _now_ you're telling me that you can't live without me?" There was now a subtle hint of sarcasm in Leon's voice.

"No, that's not what I'm saying at all. I _can_ live without you Leon, I just don't want to. I did what I did because I didn't want you to die. It wasn't a choice that I made; I didn't have to think about it. It was instinct."

"But after everything we've seen…we've seen what happens when people play God. It never ends well. Look, I have to go Claire, sooner or later. If I stay, I'm putting you all in danger."

"In danger from what?"

"From me! Don't you get it? I'm not _me_ anymore. I saw what happened to Jimmy. He tried to fight it, but he couldn't and I had to kill him. I saw an intelligent man…my friend… turn into a killer. He knew what he was doing, but he had no control over his actions."

"That's not going to happen to you Leon. All of the test results turned up negative – there's nothing wrong with you."

Leon shook his head. He stepped towards Claire and reached for the knife that was sheathed on her chest.

"What are you do…" Claire stammered.

"Watch."

He held out his left hand in front of Claire, his palm facing upwards. Holding her knife with his right hand, he gritted his teeth as he pushed down and dragged the serrated blade deep into the fleshy palm of his left hand, the path of the knife recorded by a bright red line. Within a few moments, rivulets of blood were pouring along his wrist onto the floor. Claire looked away while squeezing her eyes shut.

"I said watch!" Leon ordered.

Claire opened her eyes and looked back at Leon. She gasped. Her eyes widened as she covered her mouth with her hands.

"Oh my God." she whispered.

She moved herself closer to Leon and inspected his hand. She saw that the sliced flesh was rippling almost rhythmically. The bright blood that covered his hand a few moments ago had already begun to clot and turn a dull shade of brown. The distinct line made by the knife across his palm was beginning to fade.

Claire picked up a glass of water from the table and splashed it across Leon's hand, washing it clean. She then grabbed his hand and inspected it carefully. There was now no evidence of the self-inflected wound. Still holding his hand, she looked up at his face. She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat was dry and no words came out.

"I don't know how long I have left, but…"

"We can fight it Leon. I know we can. We have the antivirus; Elisabeth said it inhibits the gene."

"I've been taking antivirus injections for the last four weeks. It obviously hasn't worked."

"But there's got to be _something_ we can do."

"There is something _you_ can do."

"Anything."

"I don't want you to tell anyone about this. For the moment at least, this is my problem and the S.T.A.R.S have bigger things to worry about right now. We're going to get through this mission. And then I have to go."

"Where are you going to go?" she asked softly.

"I can't tell you that. Not yet." Leon put his hand gently on her shoulder and squeezed. "But now I know you'll understand when the time comes. You do understand, don't you?"

Claire just looked up at him. She didn't know what to say. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind. Why wasn't the antivirus working on Leon when it worked on Jill? Was he really going to change? Where was he going to go? What was he going to do? Was he a danger? Was Chris right after all?

Claire bit her bottom lip and nodded.

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Chris was staring at a bubbling glass beaker full of red fluid that was sat over the hot blue flame of a bunsen burner. The resultant vapour floated upwards into another glass vessel where it condensed into a clear, water-like fluid that dripped down a narrow glass pipe, through a funnel and into a second beaker.

"I want a progress report." Chris said without taking his eyes off the experiment on the lab bench in front of him.

Elisabeth glanced quickly at Rebecca before replying. "As you know, I've genetically engineered a serum - an antivirus if you like – that spontaneously reverses the effects of Wesker's mutation."

"So it makes him human again? We can kill him?"

"Yes." Her voice wavered. "But not for long."

"What do you mean, not for long? How long do we have?"

"Three minutes, four minutes maximum from its introduction to the blood stream. Unfortunately Wesker's mutation has a kind of genetic fail safe that I wasn't expecting. It can react to, _and_ neutralise, just about any biological threat."

"Then we'll have to make do this time."

"Do you really think Wesker will be there? I didn't think he had anything to do with this organisation?" Rebecca asked.

"Oh, he's going to be there." Chris muttered in reply.

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

There was a moment's silence punctuated only by the bubbling sound on the bench.

"I've managed to infuse the serum into a hard gel that can be introduced into standard shells." Elisabeth then handed Chris a small bullet-shaped object. Chris took it from her and held it up to the light, inspecting it closely. "You can put this in you handgun." she added.

"Have they been tested?"

"Preliminary stages only, but the gel explodes on impact." Elisabeth noted the sceptical look on Chris's face. "It works Chris, trust me."

"It looks I don't have much choice." he responded dryly. Chris put the hardened gel bullet down on the bench.

"So…" he said, turning to Elisabeth. "What can you tell me about Carter?"

"Ephraim Carter?" Elisabeth's voice sounded surprised at the question.

"Don't be coy. You used to work for him remember?"

"I never knew who the head of the organisation was. None of us did. In fact, back there in the conference room was the first time I've ever heard anyone link him to the organisation."

"And the rig?"

Elisabeth shrugged her shoulders.

"I always get the feeling you're not telling me everything."

Elisabeth groaned. "I've done nothing _but_ help you since I've been here. I've told you _everything_ I know about the organisation. You wouldn't have been able to infiltrate those facilities without me. And Leon…" Chris's head snapped up at the mention of Leon's name. "Well, Leon would still be dead and Jill would still be locked up in a basement somewhere. _Or worse_."

She took a deep breath before continuing. "Look, if I knew anything about this man, or this rig, I'd tell you. I'm in more danger out there than any of you. Remember that."

Chris looked at her. She was impossible to read. Her body language gave away no hints of an ulterior motive. There were no involuntary twitches, no messing of the hair, no flickering of the eyes. Just absolute control.

He turned to leave the room.

"20:00 hours. Be ready." he said over his shoulder before he disappeared through the door and into the corridor.

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Jill Valentine was in her room in the S.T.A.R.S accommodation block. She had changed into her black combat trousers and fitted t-shirt in readiness for the upcoming mission. It was the first time she had worn them in many months and even though she knew the mission was going to be dangerous, she felt strangely happy. She was a soldier, and soldiers don't sit in front of a computer screen doing research while their comrades are out in the field risking their lives. She wanted, _needed_, to be out there with them.

She knelt down to tie her boot laces. The tough black leather felt strangely restrictive as she had gotten used to wearing soft trainers while confined to S.T.A.R.S headquarters. She chided herself for not breaking them in before now, but Chris's decision to bring her along on the mission had caught her by surprise. It seemed to catch everyone else by surprise too.

While kneeling down, she noted her handgun, a spare magazine and knife were sat on her bed. She made a few minor adjustments to her bootlaces and stood up quickly while simultaneously reaching for her weapons. She suddenly felt dizzy as blood seemed to rush to her head. She leaned forward on the bed for support and closed her eyes while breathing slowly and deeply, desperately trying to steady herself. The air seemed to turn stale and putrid. She could just discern the smell of diesel. With her eyes still closed, she felt her body slide onto the bed. Then she was aware of the soft cotton sheets pressing against her cheek.

_Jill was lying on a hard, metal floor. She was staring upwards, not at the sky but at a dark metal ceiling along which ran a series of pipes. She was cold, and her hair felt wet. She tried to move, but her muscles wouldn't respond. She couldn't even blink. She realised she was dying. _

_Two formless shapes materialised over her. _

_''She's dead.''_

_''No, she's not. Not yet.''_

_The voices were distant, distorted. She couldn't even determine whether they were male or female._

_''She will be soon though. Look at that wound on her head...''_

_''She is not going to die because we're going to use Lazarus.''_

_''Lazarus? But doesn't that...'_

_''Don't question me! Just get her to the lab.''_

_''But she'll know...''_

_''She won't remember a thing.''_


	16. Chapter 16 Swamped

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters, I am just a fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. Well, welcome to the beginning of the end – not too far to go now. A bit of a hefty chapter this one, but I hope you can bear with it and get to the end. I've said it before – I know this is not perhaps the most original of stories, but I hope I've got a _few_ surprises lined up for you! Enjoy.

**Chapter 16 Swamped**

Chris Redfield picked up the large knife that was lying next to his handgun on the wooden desk in his office. Light reflected off the recently buffed steel surface onto his face. He felt along the sharp edge of the blade before sliding it into the sheath on his chest. He then picked up his gun and checked the loading mechanism. He held it up and pressed the trigger. Click.

His attention was diverted by a knock on the door. He loaded a magazine into his handgun and eased it in the holster by his hip.

Chris cleared his throat. "Come in."

The door opened and Jill Valentine strode in. She was wearing black combat trousers and a snugly fitting black t-shirt. Her red-brown hair was securely fastened away from her face by a black band, fully revealing her delicate features and pale complexion. "Chris, it's time."

Chris nodded. "Are you okay? You look a little..."

"Pale? That's probably because I've been shut up in here for so long." She grinned. "No, I'm fine, honestly. Maybe a little nervous, this is my first mission in more than six months after all, but I'm fine."

Jill tried to sound at ease, although she was struggling to push the thoughts of her most recent flashback out of her mind. She knew for certain now that she had been on the Methuselah and she had been seriously injured. But she didn't understand why the organisation, who she presumed were responsible for her capture and incarceration, didn't just leave her to die.

"Anyway Chris, I just wanted to say thanks."

"Thanks? For what?" He sounded surprised.

"For letting me come on this mission. I've been crawling up the walls in here."

Chris smiled as he put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm glad you're back. There's no one else I'd rather have in my team."

"Chris…" she began.

"Yeah?"

She looked at his face. As usual, his brow was lined with worry; his formerly brilliant blue eyes virtually disappeared into the recesses of their sockets. Jill could still see the handsome man she had first met well over ten years ago when they were both assigned to the original S.T.A.R.S, but now he looked somewhat tired, like he carried unimaginable burdens.

Jill shook her head. Chris didn't have time for her problems. "It's nothing. Let's go."

They both made for the exit. Just as Chris reached the door, he glanced at the picture on the wall. It was the old newspaper article and photograph of the original S.T.A.R.S, but in a new dark wood frame. The new frame was smaller than the old one that Chris had broken in a rage, evidenced by a square outline of dirt on the wall outside its margins. Chris reached out and gently realigned the picture. He then glanced quickly at Jill, looking like he was about to say something, but he changed his mind and carried on walking. He closed his office door behind him.

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"Hey Chris, don't you think we should be a little bit more discrete?" Carlos had to speak loudly to be heard over the sound of the helicopter blades. "You know I love to make a scene, but maybe walking right up to their front door and knocking isn't the best way to do this..."

Chris was sat on the opposite bench to Carlos in the passenger compartment of the S.T.A.R.S helicopter, examining a submachine gun. "I wanted to make a surprise visit." He didn't look up as he spoke. "Besides, with our jamming device, they won't be able to see us until we're right on top of them."

Carlos smirked. He leaned forwards, his elbows resting on his knees. He turned his attention towards Jill who was kneeling on the floor while examining the contents of a small metal box that was about the size of a briefcase.

"So Jill, how does it feel to back in the saddle?"

Jill's attention was focussed on the contents of the box and she didn't respond to Carlos's question.

"Jill?" Carlos repeated a little louder. Chris looked up in his direction.

"I'm sorry, what did you say Carlos?" Jill said, snapping her head up.

"I said how does it fell to be back?"

She smiled warmly. "So good you wouldn't believe it."

"Jill, how're you coming along with the explosives?" Chris interrupted. Carlos rolled his eyes.

"Just one left. The triggers are very sensitive so I'm going to keep them and the C4 separate until the time comes."

"Is there enough?"

"There's enough to destroy a small town here. So _be careful_." She said, pushing the small box into a rucksack.

Chris nodded, the trace of a faint smile evident on his lips. He then turned his attention to Leon and Rebecca who were sat either side of Carlos. Leon was sat stony faced, his back pressed against the wall, both feet planted firmly on the metal grille floor. The paleness of his skin, combined with his blond hair, exaggerated the bright blue colour of his eyes. Rebecca, who looked small and frail in comparison to the male team mates sat next to her, was busy checking the contents of her medical kit. She seemed oblivious to everything else going on around her.

Chris then turned his head to face his sister who was sitting next to him. She was staring straight at Leon, a strange expression on her face. She was unconsciously clenching and unclenching her fists, which was something Chris knew she did whenever she was anxious. He was hoping that if he stared at her for long enough, she would notice and turn to face him, but her attention was focussed solely on Leon.

Elisabeth was fidgeting, looking at her wristwatch every minute or so. Chris noticed small beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

"I hate flying." she said nervously as she became aware that Chris was observing her. "I've always hated it. I _particularly_ hate helicopters."

"Why do you keep looking at your watch?" Chris asked.

"We've been in the air, what, over an hour now? Surely we must be there soon."

"Five minutes. Get ready."

Chris coughed loudly to get everyone's attention and stood up, clinging to the netting on the passenger compartment wall for stability. Everyone looked up at him expectantly and he, in turn, looked directly into their eyes, one by one.

Chris swallowed hard, unsure of what he was about to say. He knew he had to say _something_. That was what was expected of the leader after all. But Chris knew he was not a man of words. His actions spoke for him. He knew he was the man you wanted to be standing next to in a fight, not sitting next to in a debate.

"We've come a long way together, and I know it seems like this will never end." His grip tightened on the netting. "Maybe it won't. Maybe people will still be fighting this war long after we've gone. But we've got the opportunity tonight, _now_, to deal the biggest blow to this organisation yet. We're going to send a message to everyone out there that wants to carry on Umbrella's work – _we're going to bring them down_." His eyes narrowed and he focussed his glare on Elisabeth who shifted uncomfortably. "No exceptions."

Carlos banged his submachine on the helicopter's floor in approval.

"I want you all to be careful. No heroics." Chris continued. "We don't know what we're going to have face in there. Our objectives are to collect evidence and neutralise _all_ hostiles. Use extreme prejudice."

"Do you think there'll be a bio-organic weapon in there?" Rebecca asked while closing the lid on her first aid kit and securing the fastening.

"Maybe. We'll just deal with anything they throw at us." He smiled warmly at her. "We've done it before."

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Elisabeth shielded her eyes as debris swirled around in the updraft from the S.T.A.R.S helicopter before it slowly rose into the air and disappeared towards the horizon. They were on their own.

"Move out!" Chris shouted. Within moments, the helipad was deserted.

"Stay behind me." Chris ordered Elisabeth while watching his sister disappear into the darkness with Leon. He felt a stab of concern in his chest. He knew that Claire was more than capable of looking after herself – she had proved it time and again. But he wasn't sure how much longer Leon could last. How much longer he could protect her if needed.

Chris and Elisabeth ran in the shadows towards the rig control room. The only sound they heard was their own breath – sharp and regular in the cold night air. When they reached their destination, Chris knelt on the step by the door. He pressed his ear to the door and listened. He turned to face Elisabeth and readied his weapon. Elisabeth nodded.

Chris tapped gently on the door. Muffled voices could be heard from within. The handle moved down and the door began to open slowly. Just as it opened, Chris launched himself to his feet and kicked the door inwards. There was a loud curse followed by the sound of a body hitting the floor. Within the space of a heartbeat, Chris had run through the door into the control room. A tall masculine figure dressed in black charged him but he stepped to the side, almost casually. He raised his weapon and fired. Four holes appeared in the other man's chest in a rough circle around his heart before he crumpled to the floor.

Elisabeth had followed Chris into the control room. She shifted her gaze to the second man on the floor who had begun to twitch and moan softly as he came slowly back into consciousness. His eyes were scanning the floor for his weapon that had been knocked out of his hand when he was struck by the door. She stood over him, a foot either side of his chest, and crouched. He stared up at her, open mouthed, his eyes wide. His lips trembled while his fingers began to furiously search the floor for his gun. Elisabeth reached forward and put her hands on either side of his head, her face totally blank. There was a horrifying crunch as she jerked her hands to the side, twisting the man's neck. The twitching stopped abruptly.

Chris turned to face her. "Was he...?"

"No." Elisabeth shook her head as she straightened up. "Just regular help. His eyes were normal. Yours?"

"Same." Chris strode across the small room to a control panel and large monitor displaying a rig schematic that was attached to the far wall. Elisabeth followed him closely.

"Looks like the rig's extracting _some_ gas. Not a bad cover operation." she said over Chris's shoulder. "It looks like they're storing the gas under pressure in those tanks." she added, pointing to an area on the schematic not far from the control room where they were standing.

"I want you to access the server." Chris gestured to a large black box sat on the floor underneath the control panel. "Download _everything_."

Elisabeth nodded. She pulled out a small grey box from her utility belt and attached it to the server via the USB socket. A small red LED light on the grey box began to flash rapidly as the data transfer began. She flicked on a small computer monitor and smirked.

"I can't believe how poor the security is." she said. "There's no password or anything…this is ridiculous. Wait…hang on a minute…"

"What's wrong?"

Elisabeth sighed. "This isn't it. All that's on this server is a year's worth of drilling records, geological data, staff timesheets…there must be another. Somewhere on this rig, there's another server. _Assuming we're in the right place of course_."

"We're in the right place." Chris said confidently.

"You've got to admit that this is a pretty unusual setting for the headquarters of some..."

"Listen." Chris interrupted her.

"What? I don't hear any…"

"Shhhh!" Chris put a finger up to Elisabeth's mouth, silencing her. "I can hear an outboard motor." he whispered.

Chris turned around and walked out of the control room onto the rig surface. He walked forward along the metal gantry and leaned over the edge, looking down at the ink black sea more than thirty metres below. The sound of the motor suddenly died away. Chris strained his eyes to see in the near darkness, with the only light coming from a number of spotlights bound to the rig's main structure. He reached to his utility belt and removed a flare. He banged the small cylindrical object against the metal hand rail and was immediately bathed in bright green light. He threw the flare over the side and into the sea.

Again, he looked down at the same area of water where the noise of the motor seemed to die away. His eyes focussed on an elongated object that was slowly floating into the circle of green light emitted from the flare that was now floating in the water. It was a small boat.

Chris leant back and away from the railing. He took a deep breath.

"Someone else is here."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rebecca, Carlos and Jill had moved rapidly across from the helipad towards the accommodation block that was a relatively small stand alone structure attached to the main rig site by a sturdy metal bridge. Rebecca hesitated and looked down at the sea as they crossed the bridge. It was difficult to see in the darkness, although she could clearly hear the sound of waves crashing against metal supportsthat held the structure in place on the seabed.

"How far down is that?" she whispered as an updraft of air blew stray strands of her red brown hair into her face.

"Too far to jump." Carlos replied. "Stay focussed Rebecca."

They stopped when they reached the entrance to a square building made of corrugated iron. Above the door was a white sign with the words 'Staff Accommodation' printed on it in black capital letters. Carlos pressed himself against the door and grabbed the handle. He glanced at Jill and Rebecca, who both nodded in response.

Carlos pushed the door. It creaked loudly as it swung open to reveal a deceptively long, dimly lit room. A number of perfectly made single beds, each with identical white sheets and a grey wool bedspread, were regularly arranged along the length of each side of the room. There were twenty in total. At the end of each bed was a large metal box with a padlock. At the far end of the room was a large bookshelf.

Carlos walked cautiously into the room, closely followed by the two women. It was virtually silent and all they hear was the crashing of waves against the platform outside. Carlos kneeled at the end of one of the beds and examined the large metal box. He yanked on a padlock that secured it.

"Jill – can you open this?"

"Not a problem." she smiled.

Jill knelt down next to Carlos and removed a small black wallet from her pocket. Opening the wallet, she pulled out two elongate metal lock picks that she inserted into the padlock mechanism. There was a satisfying click as the lock sprung open. She removed it and placed it on the floor while Carlos opened the box and pulled out a bundle of magazines.

"Look at the dates on these! They're from 1998!"

"It looks like this box hasn't been open since then…" Jill said. "In fact, it doesn't look like anyone's slept in here for a _long_ time."

In the corner of her eye, Rebecca thought she saw a flicker of movement behind one of the beds at the far end of the room. Holding her handgun up in front of her, she walked towards the bed, slowly and deliberately, placing one foot in front of the other while listening intently for any unnatural sound. Less than five metres from the far wall, she paused. She was sure she heard an intake of breath. She crouched down and looked under the bed, holding the grey woollen cover out of the way with her spare hand. Her heart raced as she saw a black boot withdraw into a shadow.

"There's someone here!" she shouted. Carlos and Jill jumped to their feet. A moment later, a black figure appeared from behind one of the beds and fired in Rebecca's direction. Instinctively she returned fire and pressed forwards. There was a delicate click followed by a blinding flash.

"Flash grenade!" Carlos shouted.

Rebecca was temporarily blinded. She could hear heavy footsteps less than a metre in front of her. She fired blindly in their general direction, knowing that Jill and Carlos were safely at the other end of the room. There was heavy thud - it was the sound of the figure hitting the floor. There was another click. Her handgun was out of ammunition.

As Rebecca gradually regained her vision, she saw the figure on the floor in front of her scramble to its feet. It was a soldier, probably one of this facility's guards. He lurched towards Rebecca as she reached to her belt for a magazine. She began to panic and her hands shook as she ejected the spent magazine and struggled to insert the new one. Click. She barely had time to feel the relief. She was easily within reach of the soldier's outstretched arms when she raised her handgun and fired several times. His head jerked backwards but his momentum kept him hurtling forwards until he crashed into her. They both fell heavily to the ground. The weight of the soldier, who had fallen directly on top of her, knocked the air out of her lungs. She struggled to push the heavy body away.

"Rebecca! Are you injured?" Carlos called while running towards her.

Rebecca was breathing heavily, still slightly dazed.

"Are you injured!" he repeated, more forcefully this time.

"I'm…I'm fine." she replied, trying to steady herself.

Carlos bent over the corpse and felt for a pulse. He looked at Rebecca. "Nothing. He's gone. Good shooting Rebecca."

Rebecca was still sitting. Just as she was about to push herself to her feet, she looked to the area of the floor close to the bookshelf. It was devoid of the fine layer of dust that covered the floor everywhere else in the room. In the dim light, she could just discern a perfectly square outline on the wall behind the bookshelf.

"I think there's something over there…" she said, gesturing towards the location that had caught her interest. She stood up quickly and with an effort pushed aside the bookshelf to reveal the square outline of a metal door. She then noted a panel with a small round switch. She pressed it and the switch lit up. There was a low pitched rumbling noise and the metal door slid open.

"It's an elevator." Rebecca said, turning to face Carlos and Jill who were now standing just behind her.

Carlos tapped his radio. "Chris, come in."

There was a buzz of radio static.

"Carlos." Chris's voice sounded distant. "Speak up, I can barely hear you."

"We've found an elevator in the accommodation block." He cautiously stepped forwards into the metal compartment, his weapon ready. He noted a control panel on the wall. "It looks like there's only one floor to choose from."

"Got that Carlos." Chris replied. "You go on ahead; we'll follow on behind you as soon as we're done here. Leon, Claire…"

"Yes Chris." Leon replied over the radio.

"Is your area secure?"

"Yes." came the curt reply.

"Then I want you to rendezvous with Carlos."

"Okay. You guys go down first. We'll see you in a minute. Leon out."

Rebecca and Jill joined Carlos in the elevator. Carlos pressed the single button on the control panel on the wall. The door slid closed and the elevator jerked sharply before beginning its descent. Rebecca's stomach lurched with the sudden movement and she grabbed the metal rail on the wall for support.

"Get ready." Carlos said. "We don't know what we're going to come up against when this door opens."

It was nearly twenty seconds before the elevator came to a stop with a jolt. All three of the S.T.A.R.S members readied their weapons.

"We must be underground." Jill said quietly as the door slid open.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Claire and Leon were crouched behind a number of rusty barrels irregularly stacked on the concrete surface of the rig platform. Leon was staring towards the accommodation building that Carlos, Jill and Rebecca had disappeared into a few minutes ago.

Leon could sense Claire's eyes staring at him. He turned his head to face her, but she looked away quickly.

"Something's wrong." Claire said.

"Yeah, I know, it's just too quiet. _As always_." Leon replied. "I can't believe there are only three people guarding this rig."

Claire stood up and sighed. "Well, let's go walk into our trap."

"That's a very pessimistic attitude Claire Redfield." Leon teased.

Claire grinned as she began to walk across the rig platform toward the bridge that led to the accommodation block. Leon scanned the area quickly one more time and stood up, ready to follow. He suddenly felt light headed and his legs felt like they could barely hold his weight. He reached out to one of the barrels for support. Leon breathed in deeply, suddenly overcome by a wave of nausea. There was a ringing in his head and he could feel his heart rate accelerate.

Claire turned her head to the side to speak to Leon, expecting him to be walking next to her.

"Leon?" she turned around quickly to see him still standing, motionless and blank-faced, next to the barrels. "Are you alright?"

Leon breathed in sharply and shook his head. "I just got up too quick. Got a little light headed."

He quickly caught up with Claire, seemingly back to normal. "It's okay, I'm alright." he said, noting the look of concern on her face.

"You have to tell me if something's wrong Leon."

"I said I'm fine Claire, just leave it!" he snapped.

Claire flinched at his sudden angry tone.

"Let's get down to Carlos and the others." Leon said, deliberately calming his voice. "We don't know what they're up against down there."

They walked in silence across the bridge and towards the square accommodation building. Claire paused at the entrance and glanced back towards the small rig control room that was in clear view on the opposite side of the platform.

"Don't worry about Chris. He can look after himself." Leon said, trying to reassure Claire. He sensed her concern.

"It's not Chris I'm worried about." she replied as she opened the door and walked inside.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I don't see anything Chris." Elisabeth said, looking over the handrail and down towards the patch of water illuminated by the dying embers of the flare. She braced as she felt the cold sea spray hit her bare skin. Tiny droplets of salty water hung on the few strands of blond hair that had come loose around her face.

"Get back in the control room and copy the rest of the data on that server. Some of it might be useful. I'm going to have a look around."

Elisabeth nodded as she backed away from the railing and walked towards the control room. Meanwhile, Chris scanned the rig platform. Claire and Leon had already secured the area before he had told them to go down and meet up with the others, but the appearance of the boat had made him uneasy and even more alert than usual.

There was suddenly a clanging sound a little way in the distance. Holding his weapon in front of him, he moved slowly forwards towards the drilling stage in the centre of the rig platform. His eyes were drawn to a heavily rusted iron chain that had come loose from its large hook fastening and was swinging gently while clashing with a metallic handrail close by. Chris felt a heavy feeling in the base of his gut as he realised that someone had just unhooked the chain.

Chris reached to his utility belt where he had a single magazine for his handgun loaded with the special hardened gel bullets created by Elisabeth and Rebecca. He pulled out the magazine, but his attention was suddenly diverted by a loud crashing sound that came from within the control room. He began to run.

Chris tapped his radio. "Elisabeth! What's going on in there?"

There was no response.

"Elisabeth! Come in!"

He was barely a few metres from the door to the control room when it opened sharply. Chris skidded to a halt and raised his weapon.

"Elisabeth!" he shouted.

There was suddenly a muffled scream and Elisabeth was catapulted through the door. She landed awkwardly on her stomach on the hard floor. With an obvious effort, she held up her head and looked towards Chris. There was blood pouring from a large gash above her left eye.

"Shoot him!" she cried, her voice strained.

As Chris moved to load the special magazine into his hand gun, a tall figure appeared in the control room doorway.

"It seems that no matter how many times I beat you Chris, you always come back for more. That makes you either _very_ brave or _very_ stupid." The figure spoke with a mean, sardonic tone.

"Wesker! Don't you have anything better to do than follow me around all the time?" Chris retorted while surreptitiously sliding the magazine into his handgun.

Albert Wesker laughed. He stepped forward out of the doorway and onto the platform so that he could be closer to Chris. "Well, Chris, you see, I've been looking for this facility for a very long time. Thank you for finding it for me. You always were useful."

"Well, don't get too comfortable because this place isn't going to be here for too much longer. And neither are you…"

Chris raised his hand gun and fired, but Wesker had already darted out of the way.

"Damn." Chris spun around to follow Wesker who was bearing down on him. He fired, but again, Wesker was too fast and managed to dodge the path of the bullets.

Before he could fire again, Chris felt the gun ripped painfully from his hand. He heard it skid across the floor and out of reach. A second later, he was lying on his back and looking up at the stars with Wesker's fingers curled tightly around his throat. Wesker's fingers tightened and Chris gagged, struggling for breath. He swung at Wesker and made contact with his face. Wesker cursed and then smashed Chris's head against the floor. His arms went limp and his eyes rolled back in their sockets.

"I've been thinking of nothing but this moment for a long time." Wesker sneered, looking down at the helpless man on the floor.

The air was suddenly filled with the sound of automatic gunfire. Wesker convulsed, looked down and noticed a number of red patches appear on his shirt. He turned his head to see Elisabeth standing behind him, holding a handgun.

"You..." His voice sounded irritated now. He reached to Chris's chest and yanked the large knife free from its leather sheath. "I've had enough of you. Your services are no longer required."

Wesker lunged towards Elisabeth, grabbing her left shoulder. She gasped and stood there, frozen to the spot. She looked down to see Chris's knife buried deep into her abdomen, her blood dripping down Wesker's hand. She raised her head to face Wesker and smiled.

"This…this isn't…fin…you're going to be…"

Wesker withdrew the knife and plunged again, only this time he twisted it. Elisabeth's head fell backwards as her mouth open wide in a silent scream. Wesker withdrew the knife and she dropped to the floor.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The elevator door opened and Claire and Leon stepped cautiously out into a large, bright room over twenty metres long and at thirty metres wide, with bare sandstone walls. Claire immediately spotted Rebecca and Carlos, in deep conversation, standing several metres in front of her. She began to walk towards them, stepping over the bodies of a number of soldiers who must have been guarding the place. She stopped dead as her eyes scanned the room.

The room was filled with countless transparent, cylindrical vessels, each approximately two metres in height. They were all filled with fluid. As she moved closer to one of them, she noted a dark outline suspended in the centre amongst a mass of tubes. It was a man, possibly thirty years old. His fingers were twitching madly.

"Claire."

Claire jumped.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to startle you." Rebecca said.

"What is this place?" Claire asked, her eyes darting around the room.

"From what I can tell, this looks like a cloning facility. All of these men have the same physical characteristics."

"_Human cloning?_ But that's just science fiction. That doesn't happen…" Claire stopped herself mid-sentence, realising how ridiculous her statement sounded. After everything she had seen over the last ten years, she knew _anything_ was possible. There was no limit to what people could, _would_, do.

"What concerns me is this." Rebecca said, gesturing to a large vial filled with red fluid. Claire noted a tube attached to the vial that passed through the glass wall of the vessel. She traced the tube to the man's arm where the red fluid was being fed intravenously into his vein.

"Is that what I think it is?" Claire asked.

Rebecca was holding a white folder crammed with papers. "Yes. " she replied, tapping the folder. "They're all being given Lazarus. Or at least, some derivative. It's not exactly the same as the form we synthesised back in my lab and used on…" She bit her lip and looked to the floor, embarrassed.

"It's okay Rebecca." Leon said softly.

Claire's eyes widened as she looked from side to side, trying to estimate the number of vessels in the room. "There must be a hundred of them…"

"This is the army Badley was talking about." Carlos said through gritted teeth.

"We have to destroy the army." Leon said matter-of-factly. Carlos nodded in agreement.

"But they're people!" Rebecca said emotionally, her voice becoming high pitched. "We can't just kill them! We should save them! We can reverse the effects…"

Leon shook his head vehemently. "No. You can't. If they have the Lazarus gene, and they were to get out of here, there's no telling what might happen."

"I don't think I could live with myself if we do this." Rebecca said. "This just isn't right. _They haven't done anything wrong_." she pleaded.

"Not yet. But they _will_ Rebecca. It's only a matter of time." Leon said calmly.

Rebecca stared at Leon, suddenly understanding the second meaning behind his words. Her bottom lip trembled.

"Let's deal with this first." he replied. "Have you found the server? Chris and Elisabeth have drawn a blank up top so there _must_ be something down here."

"I'm on it." Carlos said.

"Good. We can't leave here without anything that ties this place to Ephraim Carter."

Carlos and Rebecca disappeared into the maze of vessels in search of the server.

"I'll set the charges." Jill said as she appeared from behind one of the vessels. "We need to attach them to these large pillars that are pretty much the only thing stopping this roof from caving in." She gestured to the nearest iron pillar that extended from the floor to the ceiling.

"Leon…"

"Yes Claire?"

"It seems secure down here. I think I'm going to go back up top and see if Chris needs any help."

"I'm sure he's fine."

Claire shook her head. "I don't know Leon. I've just got this feeling…"

"Okay, go."

Leon watched calmly as Claire stepped into the elevator and pressed the button.

"I'll see you soon." she said just as the doors closed and the elevator began its ascent.

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Elisabeth was doubled up on the floor on the rig platform, clutching the wounds on her stomach, trying to stem the flow of blood that was collecting in a slowly expanding pool on the floor. She was crying.

"Chris!" she struggled to shout. "Chris – get up! Now!" She winced. "GET UP!"

Chris was still lying on his back, his head rolling from side to side. Wesker was standing over him, holding the knife that was stained with Elisabeth's blood. He staggered, seeming to struggle to stay upright.

"Chris!" she shouted again. "It's working! Get up!"

Wesker turned his head to face Elisabeth. He looked confused. Moreover, he looked _different._ Weakened. The arrogant smile was gone and a slightly blue colour tainted his skin.

"What have you done to me?" he said as he staggered to one side. He felt one of the open gunshot wounds on his back and gasped as he saw his own blood on his hand. His eyes fixed on Elisabeth as he began to stagger towards her, the knife raised.

"Chris!" Elisabeth cried as she slowly shuffled backwards along the floor, trying to increase the distance between herself and Wesker.

Within a few staggered steps, he was standing over her. He raised the knife but stopped as he saw a faint smile appear on her face. An instant later, he dropped the knife in response to a painful blow to the side of his head. Wesker dropped to his knees, his head throbbing, his eyes felt like they were going to explode with the pressure from inside his skull. He felt blow after blow to his head. He raised his arms, clumsily trying to protect himself. There was another blow - he felt his nose crack - and he fell backwards.

Wesker looked up to see Chris standing over him. His face was twisted with wrath; his fists were tightly clenched and raised, ready to attack again. Chris straddled Wesker and repeatedly punched his face with both fists.

"This is for Joseph..." He swung wildly. "…this is for Richard…" A large cut appeared over Wesker's right eye. "…this is for Brad…" Wesker's bottom lip exploded. "…this is for Enrico …Forest…Ken…"

Chris suddenly stopped, out of breath. He looked down at his hands - his knuckles were bruised and bloody.

''Chris, for God's sake, you have to do it now! It only lasts three minutes…"

He turned his head to the side to face Elisabeth. He stared at her blankly.

"Do it!'' she screamed. "You have to kill him!"

Chris looked into Wesker's eyes, bloodied and swollen. They were human eyes now, looking up at him with nothing but fear.

"Chris…" Elisabeth coughed up blood that splattered across her cheeks and dripped down her neck and onto the floor. She let out a long, drawn out gasp before her body fell limp.

Chris moved off Wesker, and knelt on the floor next to him, panting. He held his head in his hands. This was it - the moment he had dreamed of for ten years. He wanted Wesker to pay for everything he had done to him, his S.T.A.R.S comrades, Jill, Claire….he wanted to choke the life out of the bastard. Give him back some of the pain. Well, his day had come and he couldn't do it. Chris had set his heart on killing the monster, the near-omnipotent creature Wesker had fashioned himself into. But he couldn't kill a man. A weak, pathetic man.

''I'm not an executioner. '' he said calmly as he shook his head, hardly believing the words that there were coming out of his mouth. "You're coming back with us." he said retrieving a pair of plastic hand ties from his belt. "And you're going to face up to your crimes."

''You sanctimonious……''

Chris felt a heavy blow to the side of his head. He lent forwards, supporting his weight on one hand, and looked up. He barely had time to regain his focus when he saw Elisabeth swing her arm. There was a loud crack and Chris felt warm fluid pouring down the side of his head. He fell onto his side, staring upwards at Elisabeth in shock. She gritted her teeth and kicked him in the head and then the chest.

Chris groaned and doubled up on the floor. He lunged for his handgun that he spotted lying idly a metre or so away, but it was kicked out of reach as his fingers got tantalisingly close to it. Elisabeth grimaced as she straightening up. The newly formed clots on her wounds tore open and began oozing blood.

Elisabeth turned her attention to Wesker, also lying bloodied and broken on the floor. She walked towards him, staggering at first, but with each successive step she appeared to recover. She looked down on him, a satisfied, cruel smile plastered across her face.

''Any last words, mentor?''

''Clever girl.'' he said. He smiled coldly, almost admiring the creature before him that he had created. It seemed fitting to him that the creator dies at the hands of his own creation. But he'd come back before - he could come back again.

''Don't do it…'' Chris muttered as he struggled to push himself up to his knees.

Elisabeth ignored Chris and fired shot after shot into Wesker's head and body, emptying the gun. There was a clicking sound as she kept firing, even though the chamber was empty.

Wesker was dead.

Chris was now on his knees, but he was disorientated from the ringing sound in both of his ears. Elisabeth crouched behind him, gently putting her hands on his shoulders. He froze at her touch.

''I'm sorry Chris,'' she whispered in his ear. ''I really thought you would kill him for me. I know the history between you. It looks like I underestimated how good you are.'' She reached into her pocket for a new magazine. ''But now you know who…what I am…''

''You were just using us…..'' he coughed and winced. ''….to get to the organisation…..''

''Well, I couldn't do it on my own. And I certainly couldn't take down Wesker on my own. I'm good, but I'm not _that_ good.'' She loaded the new magazine into her gun. The clicking sound make Chris flinch.

''Why? What do you _want?_''

''I want control, nothing more, nothing less. I want everyone to know that _I_ am the one that created Lazarus; that _I_ am the one that has power of life over death. Like you said to me all that time ago - he who controls this army, controls the world. Well.'' her features changed to a cold blank stare. ''The 'he' is going to be 'she'. And I think the world is ready for change.''

"So you're doing this for the sisterhood?" Chris smirked, but then he winced as he felt pain in his chest.

"Oh, that's funny." she replied with no trace of a smile on her face. Elisabeth pressed the gun to the back of Chris's head. He flinched. The barrel was still hot. ''I'll tell you what is funny though Chris. The rest of your _S.T.A.R.S_ are going to help me take over, whether they realise it or not. After we've all mourned your death of course.''

''You don't have to do this Elisabeth.'' he said softly. ''It's not too late. All this time you've said you wanted to change, that you wanted to make things right. You can still do that. I've seen what you can do - we need you. You can help us.'' He felt the gun at the back of his head waver. "_And we can help you_. It's not too late."

Elisabeth's face seemed to soften. She had walked into the S.T.A.R.S headquarters that day resolute in her desire to infiltrate and destroy them from within. She wanted them to destroy the organisation and lead her to their headquarters where she would take back what was rightfully hers. She wanted them to help her destroy Albert Wesker, the man who had condemned her to this life. But somewhere along the way, Elisabeth had stopped seeing them as tools. Moreover, she had actually begun to respect them. She respected their unwavering loyalty to each other and the way that no matter how dire the situation, they would never submit to defeat. But it _was_ too late now. She had to finish what she had started. The line had been crossed, and there was no going back to the way things were before.

Her face hardened and the grip on her weapon tightened. ''What? Become a member of the S.T.A.R.S?'' she said, mocking Chris.

''Why not?'' he said softly as he slowly reached for his chest pocket.

"I don't think so Chris. I could never be like you."

"I know why you hate him. _Hated_ him." His fingers were getting closer.

"You don't know anything about me."

"He created you, designed you to do what he wanted, to be who he wanted. You never had a choice." His fingers had reached his small breast pocket. They crawled inside and searched. He suddenly felt a cold, hard metal object the size of a cigarette lighter.

"Shut up! You don't know anything!"

"I understand what you're feeling." His fingers clasped the metal object and he began to ease it slowly out of his pocket. "He messed all of our lives up. He stole any chance we had to be normal. He deserved to die."

Chris readied himself to remove the object from his pocket. His index finger searched for the small red switch on the side. His muscles tensed, ready for one last effort, but suddenly he felt a hand grab his wrist and yank it out of his pocket.

"I'd almost forgotten about that."

"Argh!" Chris gasped as her vice like grip made him release the box, her nails digging into his flesh. The box fell to the floor and skidded away on the concrete into shadow.

"Were you going to blow me up Chris?"

She released her grip. Chris unconsciously rubbed his sore wrist with his other hand. "I was thinking about it…"

'I wasn't sure if you were bluffing about that, that day you said you had put that device in my coffee. I guess you weren't. Either way, it doesn't matter anymore. You can't kill me now."

"Wesker thought he couldn't die too…"

Elisabeth pretended to ignore Chris's last comment. "But I have to kill you now, because if I don't, I know you'll come back for me. If not you, then your sister or another one of your friends. At least you can die knowing that you'll be missed.'' She glanced across at Wesker's lifeless body that was lying in a pool of blood on the floor. ''Unlike some of us…..''

Her finger twitched on the trigger.

Chris didn't hear the sound, but he was suddenly blinded by a searing pain that ran through his body like electricity. He slumped to the hard, cold floor and was overcome by darkness.


	17. Chapter 17 The Outsider

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters (I wish I did, I'd certainly be a lot richer than I am now if I did own them!), I am just a fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. Thanks for reading – I promise there isn't too far to go now. PS. In case you Resident Evil fans didn't know already, I've discovered that Capcom are realeasing a feature length CGI movie at the end of the year called Resident Evil: Degeneration..._and_ it will feature Claire and Leon. How cool is that?

**Chapter 17 - The Outsider**

''What you're doing here is _wrong_. It's not natural.'' said stern masculine voice. The words echoed through a large, brilliantly lit room characterised by white washed walls and an impeccably clean white tiled floor.

''I can assure you Mr Carter, that all that is going on here is perfectly legitimate scientific research...''

'_'Legitimate research?_'' Carter's voice rose as his face turned red with barely controlled fury. ''You know what happened in Raccoon City!"

Carter took a deep breath and changed his focus to a tall, middle aged man in a dark green military uniform who was standing to his right. "And you! You, General Keller, were the one who practically gave authorisation for deployment of the nuclear warhead to destroy the city after the T-virus infection couldn't be controlled.'' He shook his head fervently. "I'm closing the Alaska research facility down."

"Just think about this. We are this close to…"

"Close to _what_ exactly, Dr Badley?" His voice became high pitched.

"…to creating a cure for almost _anything_. We can make the human body repair itself a _hundred times_ faster than normal. Just imagine the possibilities…for the military…" Elisabeth looked into Carter's deep set eyes. "We can create an army that doesn't get tired, doesn't get injured…_we can save lives_."

Elisabeth studied James Carter. He was a handsome man, possibly in his mid-forties, with cropped dark brown hair peppered with grey. He had large, expressive brown eyes and a strong jaw. He was dressed smartly in a well-tailored dark grey wool suit. He had an elegant air that could only be gained by a man from a privileged background. She knew everything about him even though she had barely spoken to him. It was probable that he was educated privately and attended an Ivy League University where he would have attained academic mediocrity but a high social status. He would have been groomed by his powerful father - a state senator - for a career in politics and the upper echelons of government or business. He would have married a beautiful but vapid woman from a similar background and they would produce handsome but equally vapid children who would carry on the family legacy. Everything was gifted to men like James Carter - they were destined to have a successful, privileged life without the hard work. This infuriated Elisabeth - he was a man in a position of power that could appear on a whim and destroy everything she had spent the last few years working on.

Carter shook his head and laughed, seemingly incredulous at her inability to understand his misgivings. "But at what cost Dr Badley?"

"_At what cost?_" General Keller interrupted._ "_It doesn't matter how much it costs, Mr Carter. If there was something that would let me have a night of unbroken sleep, knowing that my wife is safe, that my children…_my grandchildren_…are safe…then that price is worth paying."

Carter took a deep breath, steadying himself. "This isn't the way General." His voice was calm now. "You and I have seen what happens when you experiment with nature. No matter how good your intentions are, you must know that this kind of technology can be abused. I'm sorry, but I've made my decision."

"When I put on this uniform Mr Carter, I have to make decisions every day that most men wouldn't. _Or couldn't_. I have had to send men out into the field _knowing_ that they are going to die. I have sent men to their deaths whose wives I know, whose children play with my grandchildren. _And for what?_ Do you think that when I tell these women that their husbands died doing their duty for their country and they died a hero, it _really_ matters?"

Carter looked down, his shoulders slumped. "No, I suppose not." he said quietly.

"You're damn right, it doesn't matter."

"But I still can't let you carry on with this General. I don't know how you managed to keep this so quiet for so long. It's wrong. "

"Wrong?"

"You're a General because you choose to make those decisions. If you are unable, or unwilling, to make those decisions anymore, then maybe you shouldn't be wearing that uniform." Carter said.

"Why you arrogant…"

''I'm leaving for Mexico City in the morning but I promise you General Keller, I _will_ file a report on what I've found here, and I _will_ do everything in my power to shut this operation down. Permanently.''

"But your father…"

"I don't care about my father. His business interests are no concern of mine."

James Carter then turned to face a third man in the room who had been a silent observer up until that point. He was a much older man, balding with a small pair of round-framed glasses perched on the end of his long, crooked nose.

"Mr Harvey, please write this down."

The third man pushed his glasses further up his nose before he withdrew a notepad and gold pen from his leather briefcase. He looked up expectantly at Carter, the gold pen delicately balanced in his short, fat fingers.

Carter swallowed and paused. "After inspection of government research facility number 6734H, it has been found that illegal and immoral activities, unsanctioned by the government, have been taking place. It is recommended therefore that the facility be closed and all research data and equipment be impounded, subject to investigation. Signed, James Carter. Date, 22nd June 2002."

Mr Harvey gave Carter his pen and the piece of paper to sign, which he did with a flourish. He then handed the page to General Keller.

Keller snatched it out of his hand. "You can't do this."

"I already have General." Carter replied curtly. "Be thankful that I'm not going to the criminal authorities. You could go to prison for some of the things I have seen in this laboratory."

Carter nodded to his associate and they both turned to make for the exit. He stopped when he heard the sound of paper tearing.

"I'll send you another copy." Carter said. He then turned to face his colleague whose face was expressionless. He nodded and they left the room, leaving Elisabeth Badley and General Oscar Keller alone. They stood in stony silence, digesting James Carter's departing comments.

Keller sighed. "I knew this was going to happen." He slumped backwards to lean against the wall. "I was really hoping to fend them off until Lazarus was further along...and we could put up a more convincing argument."

"This isn't how it's going to end." Elisabeth replied. "I've spent the last four years working on this…and I'm not going to let some spoiled suit with no understanding of reality wipe away all that hard work."

"There's nothing we can do." Keller sounded defeated.

"I _need_ to finish this General. For you it's just another project, but for me…if I don't finish this…well, I'm…"

"I know your predicament Elisabeth, but you only have yourself to blame for that." He placed his hand on her shoulder. "There's nothing we can do now. He's gone. He'll be in Mexico City by the morning and he'll file his report.

"Maybe _there is_ something we can do to change his mind."

"Listen to me Elisabeth; I suggest you move on, while you still can. I know there are a number of organisations out there keen to employ you – maybe you should take them up on their offer. They certainly pay a lot better than the government."

Elisabeth ignored him. "Carter doesn't think they're any good. Maybe if we showed them in action...he'd realise what we've achieved and change his mind."

"You're not listening to me…"

She stepped forward and Keller's hand fell off her shoulder. "We can send a small squad on an operation to Mexico. Just across the border so that there are no political issues. Maybe we can set up a narcotics raid or something…" She smiled, seeming to get excited with her idea. "Yes! That's it! That's perfect!"

"What if he isn't interested in seeing the squad in action?"

"We…make him interested."

Keller's eyes narrowed. "Are you saying what I think you're saying? Taking someone against their will is a federal offence. Going to prison would be the _least_ of our problems if anything went wrong."

"How else can we get him to see what the soldiers can do?"

General Keller began to pace the room. His hands were clasped behind his back and he unconsciously chewed on his bottom lip as he began to formulate a plan in his mind. "I don't know…too many things could go wrong."

"No one will get hurt. This is the kind of operation that they're _trained_ for."

"But they haven't been on a mission yet. We don't know exactly how they'll respond…you know there are a few issues with their psychological profiles."

"Then this can be their first mission. A test if you like. _Nothing can go wrong_."

Keller stopped pacing and stood in front of a large reinforced glass window at the far end of the room. He looked through the window into the adjacent room which appeared to be laboratory. Lined up against the walls in the laboratory were a number of transparent cylindrical vessels filled with clear fluid, each approximately two metres in height. The figures of men could be seen suspended in the fluid in the midst of a tangle of tubes.

"Okay Elisabeth. Let's do it. But if this goes wrong…"

"Nothing can go wrong General. They're…perfect"

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Elisabeth opened her eyes with a jolt and felt the cold hard floor supporting her pain-racked body. Her clothing was damp and she could sense strands of hair lying uncomfortably across her face. She was looking up at an indigo coloured sky punctuated by pin pricks of light. As her eyes moved from left to right, iron rigging came into view. She realised with a start that she was still on the oil rig and not in the comfortable, familiar surroundings of her old research laboratory in Alaska.

She tried to move but didn't have the strength. Her body felt heavy although her senses felt strangely heightened. She could hear her own breathing - shallow and fast, the cold air stinging her lungs with every inhalation. She could hear the sound of the waves lapping against the large metal structure, and an open door that was caught by wind and banging gently against its frame somewhere in the distance. She could hear footsteps, maybe twenty metres away. Their pace seemed to quicken as they got closer and louder. She was gripped by panic.

With a massive effort that expended every ounce of energy she had, Elisabeth pulled her arm off the floor and felt the front of her shirt. She flinched, momentarily losing focus, as she felt a sharp pain that originated in her chest and moved upwards into her neck. She realised she had been shot. Her breathing gradually steadied itself, and she managed to roll her head to the side in an effort to better survey her surroundings. Elisabeth gasped when she saw the outline of a bloodied body lying inert on the floor next to her. It was Chris Redfield. A single, warm tear formed in her left eye and flowed down her cheek leaving behind a glistening trail.

"Chris!" a disembodied female voice shouted, piercing the darkness.

Elisabeth realised the heavy footsteps were now less than a couple of metres away before everything went out of focus and she was taken by the darkness.

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Elisabeth sighed with contentment as she felt the warmth of the early afternoon sun on her face. Her feet sunk down into the thick, lush grass of the sprawling lawn that covered the grounds in front of a massive early nineteenth century limestone building. She re-arranged the heavy polyester gown with the decorative purple sash that she wore over her best suit, and scanned the crowd of similarly-attired people for a familiar face. Her eyes rested briefly on the temporary stage that was erected on the lawn, and the countless rows of wooden seats arranged to face it. Towards the back of the stage, a large banner read 'Class of 1998' in large red letters.

"Congratulations."

Elisabeth spun around and smiled. "I'm so pleased you could come." she said excitedly to the tall, blond-haired man standing in front of her.

"I wouldn't want to miss your special day." he replied. "It would appear that you are the youngest person ever to graduate from this university with a doctorate in genetics. You should be very proud of yourself."

Elisabeth shrugged. "Genetics isn't as popular as it used to be…"

"Ah…Elisabeth" a voice interrupted.

A short, slightly rotund man with crazy grey hair materialised in front of her. He smiled warmly at Elisabeth and then looked across at her blond male companion. He held out his hand.

"I'm Gerald Friedman – I am, _I was_, Elisabeth's tutor. Are you her…_father_?"

Elisabeth laughed, slightly embarrassed. "No! No – he's a…friend. He's helped me a lot with my research."

Gerald's hand was hanging uncomfortably in mid-air while he waited patiently for the other man to shake it. However, the blond man's hands remained fixed at his side.

"My name is Albert Wesker." he said bluntly. Gerald flinched at Wesker's openly hostile response. However, he quickly brushed him aside and turned his head to face Elisabeth once more.

"You must promise to stay in touch. The university needs more young scientists like you. If you ever want to come back and take a research post – I can guarantee you the funding. You have my word."

"Thank you Dr Friedman, that means a lot to me."

"You can call me Gerald. But seriously, stay in touch."

"I will. I promise." she smiled.

Gerald returned the smile and quickly scanned the ever-increasing crowd of people that were now enveloping the grass.

"Well, I have to do the rounds." He looked at Wesker. "It was nice to meet you Albert."

"Likewise." came the stony response.

"You take care of yourself Elisabeth." Gerald Friedman said before he disappeared into the throng.

Elisabeth crossed her arms.

"That was a little rude." she said to Wesker, half-heartedly scolding him. "He was trying to be nice."

"You've known me long enough now to know that I don't do small talk. Besides, I think he's a pitiful excuse of a scientist. He has no vision."

Elisabeth raised her eyebrows. "He might not be involved in groundbreaking research, but his heart's in the right place."

"There is no place for a heart in science."

Elisabeth rolled her eyes. "Let's get a drink." she said, pointing to a white marquee erected behind the stage in close proximity to the limestone building.

Wesker nodded and they began to walk slowly across the grass towards the marquee. He grew a little impatient as Elisabeth seemed to be stopped every few steps by a fellow graduate or member of faculty who offered her their best wishes.

"You know, I've been thinking about what I'm going to do when I get back to Raccoon City…"

"You aren't going back to Raccoon City."

Elisabeth stopped dead.

"But why can't I go back? That's where all of my research is."

"There is a new placement for you at a government facility in Alaska."

"_Alaska?_"

"Yes. There's a laboratory there with an opening for a geneticist. You'll be able to carry on with the Lazarus project without hindrance."

"But I don't want to go to Alaska. It's…_cold_." she whined.

Wesker stared at Elisabeth, slightly bemused. He sometimes forgot that the ferocious intellect belied her young age and the immaturity that went with it. She had graduated with a PhD at only eighteen years old. Wesker was fully aware that she could have graduated several years earlier, but she was held back to avoid drawing attention.

"There isn't a place for you in Raccoon City anymore. You're too valuable to go there now."

"What does that mean?"

Wesker resumed walking. "You sound like a petulant child."

Elisabeth resumed her pace and quickly caught up with him. "Okay, I know, I'm sorry. It's just that Alaska is not really a place that I could ever see myself moving to."

"It's a good laboratory. You'll be able to make a lot of progress there."

"Okay, I'll go. But…"

Elisabeth froze, suddenly paralyzed by a blinding pain behind her eyes.

"Elisabeth?"

"Just another headache." she said through gritted teeth. "It'll go away in a minute or…argh!"

She felt light headed and her legs gave way. The next thing she knew, she was lying on her back, her fingers digging into the thick grass. As her vision returned, she could see a number of concerned faces looking down at her. She groaned and raised herself onto her elbows.

"I'm…I'm fine." she said to one of the worried faces.

"Just relax." someone said.

"No really, I'm fine." she repeated, trying to push herself up to a seated position. "It's hot today and…"

The pain returned even more intense than before, and she slid backwards onto the grass as everything went black.

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''Chris! Chris! Look at me! Open you're eyes! Chris!'' a voice pleaded.

Elisabeth's eyes flickered open. She felt the ground beneath her. It wasn't grass anymore – it was cold and hard. She could no longer feel the sun on her face, moreover her skin was stung by a cold, damp chill. Slowly, she pushed herself up to her elbows where she saw Claire Redfield who was knelt down next to her brother. His eyes were closed and his face looked calm, the usual furrowed brow was relaxed and his jawed was slack. His arms lay spread at his side, while the palms of his open hands were facing upward.

"Claire…" Elisabeth whispered.

At the sound of her voice, Claire slowly turned her head to face Elisabeth. Her face was a mask of barely concealed rage. Her eyes narrowed, her pupils were barely visible between the slits.

"I'm…sorry…I…I…" Elisabeth murmured.

Claire began to breathe heavily, her chest heaving. She clenched her fists so tight that her knuckles went white.

"Claire…"

"I knew we shouldn't have trusted you." she spat. "Everything was a lie. _Everything!_"

"No – you don't understand. I…" Elisabeth coughed up blood that splattered across her chest. She wiped away some stray drops that settled on her chin. "I had no control over this...it wasn't me…" She coughed again, her whole body seemed to convulse as she did so. She quickly recovered and then sat upright.

Claire smirked while shaking her head. "Right. And that wasn't you I just saw holding a gun to my brother's head?"

"No…yes…I mean no…I'm _losing control Claire._"

Claire reached to the handgun that was holstered by her hip. She stood up slowly, feeling the strain in her thigh muscles, so that she was looking down on Elisabeth. Claire studied the other woman's face – it was deathly white and crosscut by a series of thin, spidery veins. The only colour on her skin was provided by smeared patches of bright red blood. Her lips were blue, her eyes virtually disappeared into their sockets. She looked barely human.

"I don't care about you." Claire said quietly. "Chris may have seen _something_ in you…but I don't."

"I never expected you to care." Elisabeth replied. "But I said I was going to help you bring these people down…and I _will_ do that."

Claire held up the gun and pointed it at Elisabeth; her finger was poised on the trigger.

"Please Claire…not yet." Elisabeth held her hands up in front of her in submission. "_Not yet. _Not when you're so close._"_

Claire wavered.

Elisabeth placed her hand against a gaping wound on her chest. She then looked at her blood stained hand and laughed. It was a pitiful laugh that quickly turned into a long, protracted wail.

"This won't do it." she muttered as she struggled to get to her feet. She stood still for a moment, seeming to gather herself, before she took a laboured step in Claire's direction.

Claire took a step backward. "You're one of them, aren't you? You're infected too."

Elisabeth's shoulders twitched and she took another step forward. As she looked at Claire, Claire noticed that her face seemed to change, almost like a shadow passed across it. She suddenly lunged forwards, her arms stretched in front of her. Claire sidestepped and swung her right leg, hitting Elisabeth on the side of the head.

Elisabeth staggering backwards. There was a horrendous crack as her head struck the ground and a growing pool of red liquid appeared beneath her hair that was now hanging loose around her shoulders. Claire tentatively took a step forward, while tightening the grip on her gun. She was aware that her hands were shaking. She looked down at Elisabeth whose eyes were closed, her body lying limp on the floor. She prodded the body with her foot. There was no response, but she knew she wasn't dead. Right now, her body was healing itself, preparing itself for the next attack.

"Damn you." she snarled as she aimed her weapon at the other woman's head.

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''What do you really know about me?''

''I know that you're intelligent, devious, well-trained, probably a liar…but you need our help because you got out of your depth.''

Elisabeth was sitting on a stool, her elbows resting on the large stainless steel table in the S.T.A.R.S headquarters kitchen. She was drunk and slurring her words. Across from her on another stool sat Chris Redfield.

''Ever since I can remember, I was the best at _everything_. I did well at school - I was practically a genius, I excelled in sports - there was _nothing_ I couldn't do."

''So you're just going to sit here and tell me how great you are? Then how come thing's have ended up so bad for you?''

''You see Chris, I was arrogant enough to think I was naturally smart, gifted in fact, but all I am is someone's fucking science experiment.''

Elisabeth pushed a folder across the table towards Chris. He opened the folder and looked down at the bundle of papers, skim-reading those on top. Keeping his head bowed down, his eyes looked up to focus on Elisabeth. She seemed to be having some difficultly staying upright on the stool, and her head was rolling on her shoulders.

''I thought he'd picked me out, realised that I was _special_, that I was capable of great things.''

''Who?''

''Who do you think? Wesker. Albert Wesker. They _made_ me. Wesker and his _friends._ They _designed_ me to be what I am.''

Chris, his brow furrowed, continued to thumb through the papers. They were old - some of them were faded and yellowing. The surface of a number of black and white photographs was cracking. ''It doesn't feel too good, does it?''

''What?'' Elisabeth snapped, just before taking a mouthful of coffee from the cup that Chris had just given to her. It tasted bitter. She was starting to feel a little nauseous from the alcohol she had been drinking, and struggled to swallow.

''Someone screwing with your life.''

''He was the only man to take an interest in _me_. What I could do with my mind. Not what I looked like. I loved working with him. He was a genius - he helped me take my research forward in ways I could never have dreamed of. Well, that's what I thought anyway. How wrong was I?'' She was unconsciously clenching and un-clenching her fists on the table. ''I want to hurt him Chris. I want to make sure that man ruins no more lives.'' she added in a whispered tone.

"Aren't you afraid anymore that they're going to kill you?''

''You know as well as I do that I was dead the moment I walked out of that laboratory and into this school. I underestimated my opponents, so I lose. Sooner or later, someone _will_ get to me. It might be one of theirs. It just could as likely be one of yours. It's only a matter of time.''

''Finish that and get some sleep, it's late.'' Chris said, glancing at his watch. ''I'm going to need you tomorrow.'' Chris made for the door. ''No more games.'' he said over his shoulder.

''No more games.'' she repeated.

Chris turned the handle and stood in the doorway. "Tell me the truth. Is Jill going to be okay?"

Chris turned slowly to face Elisabeth, who was still struggling to drink the coffee. Elisabeth was surprised at the soft tone of Chris's voice. She could see real concern in his eyes.

"You care for her don't you?"

Chris looked down at his feet. "Jill's a good friend. I've known her for a long time."

"But you _really_ care for her, don't you?"

Chris didn't answer.

"That's why they took her. They knew what she meant to you."

Chris looked up. "What are you saying?"

"You - the S.T.A.R.S - you were getting _too_ successful. The organisation was taking too many hits, losing too many good people, too many…projects. They needed to distract you."

"_Distract me?_"

"Yes."

"Why didn't they just kill me?"

"Killing you would make you a martyr. There are too many people that follow you now. Killing you wouldn't demoralise the S.T.A.R.S; it would make them stronger, more determined. You see, for six months, you did nothing but search for Jill. The organisation led you to places they wanted you to go…their rivals. And you doggedly chased down every false lead, every scrap of evidence…and while doing that, you alienated yourself from your team, your friends…and your sister."

Chris took a deep breath. He knew she was telling the truth. For those six months while Jill was missing, he had become virtually oblivious to everything, _and everyone_, around him. He had become distant, spending most of his time alone in his office. He ate alone, slept alone – and even when on a mission, he preferred to work alone. He suddenly felt very stupid – he'd behaved exactly how they had wanted him to. He'd been played, manipulated, to do someone else's work. Chris felt his blood pulsing through his veins. He clenched his fists and smacked them into the door.

"Why are you telling me this now?" he said, the quiet tone of voice barely concealing his anger.

"You want me to tell you everything? Well I will, but I can't promise you'll like it."

Chris unclenched his fists and let them drop to his sides. "So answer this. For how long did you know where they were holding Jill, before you came to us?"

Elisabeth looked down and closed her eyes. "A couple of months."

"Months?"

She opened her eyes and looked up. "There was nothing _I_ could do. _Nothing_."

"Oh, I get it now. Jill was your ticket out."

Elisabeth shrugged her shoulders. "I had to get out of there Chris, they were going to kill me before I could finish... Look, I needed help. They'd track me down in no time, and I thought you were the only ones who would understand. But I knew that I had to give you something in return, to make you trust me enough to help me. So I gave you Jill back."

"You cold hearted bitch." Chris shook his head in disbelief at her callousness.

"You wanted the truth Chris, well, that's the truth."

Chris walked around the table, again shaking his head in disbelief at what she was telling him. He suddenly stopped dead and stared hard at her. "Did _you_ use Lazarus on her?"

Elisabeth looked down while fingering the handle of the coffee cup.

"Did you?" Chris shouted, making her jump. She knocked over the cup spilling the dark brown fluid across the table. "Answer me!"

"I don't know what happened exactly. They brought her to my lab and she was badly injured. She was as good as dead. I couldn't let her die like that…I'm not a monster Chris."

"_You just needed her alive!" _

Elisabeth stayed silent.

Chris snorted. "So you decided to use her as a test subject?"

"That's not what it was like. I knew it could work…"

"How did you know?"

She sighed. "I have to show you something."

Elisabeth raised her right hand to her left eye and removed a coloured contact lens. She blinked as her eye watered. Then she looked directly at Chris. He stared at her, lost for words as he noted the bright red colour of her iris.

"I found out at university - on my graduation day believe it or not - that I was dying. I had an inoperable brain tumour. I was eighteen years old, and I probably wasn't going to see nineteen. Oh, I did the rounds, I went to see specialist after specialist – but there was nothing I could do. It was a waste of time."

"Do you want my sympathy?"

"No Chris, I don't expect you to care. I just want you to understand."

Chris walked around to the far side of the table and perched on the edge of a stool. He leaned forward, resting on his elbows. "Go on."

"I wasn't ready to die. I was ready to do _anything_ to beat it. I'd been working with a team at the Umbrella facility in Raccoon City, while doing research for my doctorate."

"Raccoon City." Chris muttered.

"Yes. That's where I initially developed Lazarus. I made the decision to test an early version of Lazarus on myself."

"Did it work?"

"I'm still here aren't I?"

"That's not what I asked. Did it work?"

"I was…_cured_. If that's what you could call it. But I didn't have the antivirus back then. Lazarus has irreversibly bound with my D.N.A, and can't be inhibited."

"So you're..."

"Yes." she nodded sadly. "I'm like _them_. I used Lazarus before I really understood how it worked, or how to control it. I don't know how long I have. But it's going to happen. I'm going to change. Back at the facility where Leon and I got caught in the explosion and I hurt my leg – I felt something _shift _inside me. _Inside my head._ I don't know how to describe it, but..."

"Why are you telling me this? I should just kill you right now."

"Because you need my help. I want to bring Wesker…and this organisation…down just as much as you. I'm going to help you as much as I can, for as long as I can. And then…" she paused as her voice cracked.

"Then _what_?"

"You'll have your chance to do it. What you – and everyone else in this building – has wanted to do since I got here. And you have to do it, because if you don't…I'll try to kill you. I'm sure of it." Elisabeth laughed. "All this scheming to get out…and I'm going to die anyway."

Chris stared at her, dumbfounded. He knew from the beginning there was something wrong about her. He just sensed it. Leon had sensed it too. But it wasn't really Elisabeth he was concerned about.

"What about Jill? What's going to happen to her?"

"The antivirus worked for Jill. That's the truth. There's likely to be a small percentage of people for whom it won't work…Lazarus will bind with their D.N.A just like with me…but there's nothing I can do about that."

Chris slapped his hands down on the table. "How do I know you're telling me the truth? You've told so many lies…I'm not sure whether to believe _anything_ you say."

"I've got nothing to lose now Chris. What's the point in lying? All I ask is that you let me finish it. The organisation has been using Lazarus - because I gave it to them - but they don't how to control it."

"Not like you do, right?"

Elisabeth nodded. "They're going to create an army. And the world as we know it...it'll be over. We have to find out where they are. Soon."

Chris took a deep breath as he stood up and walked towards the kitchen door. "You aren't to tell anyone else about this."

"Don't worry. I wasn't planning on it."

Chris nodded. "Go to bed. Sleep this off. We've got a big day tomorrow."

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Claire was looking down the barrel of her handgun at Elisabeth's unconscious form that was lying on the rig floor. She moved closer to look at her face. Her eyelids were twitching rapidly – Claire reasoned she must have been dreaming. She then looked at the most recent wound on Elisabeth's chest. It was a gunshot exit wound that she herself had inflicted a few minutes ago. However, she could see that the wound was already beginning to heal and the blood was beginning to congeal around the circular hole in her shirt. Realising that her gun was useless, Claire put it back in the holster by her hip. She then reached for an incendiary grenade that was attached to her belt.

"Claire – not yet." a pained voice called out softly from behind her.

Claire snapped her head around and smiled.


	18. Chapter 18 The Downward Spiral

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters, I am just a huge fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. Okay – I went on a long holiday and then had quite a few busy weekends so I couldn't get on with this story (which was really frustrating because it's so close to being finished now!). Still, I have to thank you for coming back and I hope I've made it worth your while. I promise you this story will be finished soon!

**Chapter 18 The Downward Spiral**

"General?" Claire's smiled faded quickly, and was replaced by a quizzical frown. "What are you doing here?"

General Keller walked slowly in Claire's direction, each step echoing loudly in the darkness. As he moved, his eyes remained fixed on Chris's body that was still lying motionless on the floor. The few spotlights that lit the rig surface exacerbated the crags and crevices of his aging face. He was extremely pale; his eyes appeared black and almost disappeared into their sockets. His cheeks were sunken and his cracked lips, slightly parted, revealed a row of crooked, yellowing teeth.

"Why did you come here? This is _exactly _what he wanted you to do." Keller whispered. His voice sounded pained, like every spoken word took an extreme effort. Claire noted that he winced with every intake of breath.

"I don't under…"

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming here?" Keller scolded her. His body creaked as he slowly knelt beside Chris and removed a small screw top tube from the breast pocket of his black canvas suit. He unscrewed the lid which fell to the floor, and he held it in front of Chris's nose. A moment later, Chris's head jerked to the side and his eyes opened, a look of disgust on his face. He looked first at Keller and then at Claire.

Chris sat up and Claire quickly moved behind him in order to help support his weight. "_Did you shoot me?_" he moaned, feeling a twinge of pain in his shoulder.

Claire didn't respond, she just wrapped her arms around him and squeezed hard while resting her head on his shoulders.

Chris smiled and patted her on the head with his left hand. "Hey, it's okay."

Claire squeezed harder, choking back a tear.

"Claire…" Chris whispered. "That hurts."

She quickly loosened her grasp, realising just how hard she was squeezing him. "I'm sorry Chris, there wasn't another way, and she was going to kill you. The bullet must have gone straight through her and…and…"

"It's okay." he smiled. "You did what you had to… Thank you." His voice was sincere.

Chris then reached into his utility belt and pulled out a small plastic vial which he handed to Claire. She nodded and cracked the seal while attaching a fine needle to one end. She held the vial up and flicked it in an attempt to remove the bubbles visible within the clear fluid contained within. Meanwhile, Chris rolled up his sleeve, baring his forearm. He winced as he disturbed the open wound on his shoulder. He was beginning to realise that as he got older, every injury seemed to hurt more and take longer to heal.

Claire tapped his forearm in attempt to find a vein.

"So, General…" Chris began as he switched his focus from the needle that Claire was pressing into his flesh to General Oscar Keller who was now standing upright in front of him. "How long have you been working for Wesker?"

Keller looked to the ground. "I wondered how long it would take you."

"You're a son of a bitch Keller. I trusted you. We all trusted you. And you were just using us."

"It's a little bit more complicated than that Chris."

"No, I don't think it is. You resurrected the S.T.A.R.S to destroy his rivals. To clear the playing field for him. So what did he promise you? Money? Power? What are we worth to you? I'd like to know the dollar value of my life…"

"That's not what this is about."

"Bullshit!" Chris spat. "You have a lot of blood on your hands…"

Keller turned his back to Chris, his shoulders hunched, his head bowed. "I have made terrible…mistakes. If I could go back and change what I did, I would. You have to understand that I got into all of this with the best of intentions. We had developed something so special, something that really could change the world for the better."

Chris snorted. "Yeah, and I'm sure that everything Wesker…and Ephraim Carter, have done has been for the good of mankind."

Keller clenched his eyes shut, realising that Chris also knew about his past friendship with Ephraim Carter. There were no more secrets. His career was over, for Chris would surely see to it that his actions would be made public. He had every right to do so. Even though he had the best of intentions, what he had done was wrong and he knew that one day there would be a price to pay. Well, that day had arrived.

"I misjudged Ephraim. I let our friendship cloud my judgement."

"Save it for the jury General. I don't want to hear your excuses."

"Just hear me out Chris. Please."

Claire plunged the needle into Chris's vein, dispensing the clear fluid into his bloodstream. Almost instantly, the pain in his shoulder was gone.

"You've got one minute." Chris sneered.

Keller nodded. "Years ago, not long after the Raccoon City incident, Wesker had tried to forge an alliance with Carter, but he wasn't interested. He's an arrogant man; he doesn't like to share power."

"So Wesker decided to take over by force?"

"He had already planted an insider in Carter's organisation."

"Elisabeth." Chris and Claire spoke in unison.

"Yes. She had been simultaneously working on the Lazarus virus for Carter while extracting information for Wesker for nearly a decade before she was caught."

"So what went wrong?"

"Carter found out about her involvement in his son's death. He had a strained relationship with his son, but..."

"So you two _were_ responsible for Mexico." Chris said. "You were testing Lazarus."

Claire's eyes opened wide with the revelation. Her superior officer – General Oscar Keller – was a traitor. He was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of men, women and children. She suddenly felt nauseous as she realised that the S.T.A.R.S had been working with the people they were supposed to be fighting against.

"Yes Chris." he murmured. "And I'm ashamed of what happened. There's not a day goes by that…"

"I don't want to hear it." Chris interrupted, his voice getting louder with every word."_Any of it!_ There's no way you can justify anything that you've done. I want to know what went wrong between Wesker and Elisabeth. Why does he want her dead now, after all this time?"

"He was sure that she was holding something back from him."

"About Lazarus?"

Keller nodded.

"So Wesker fed the information to Ephraim Carter." Chris said.

"Yes. She knew they were on to her. So I suggested she go to you."

Chris rolled his sleeve back down and nodded appreciatively at Claire before standing upright with renewed vigour. He retrieved his handgun from the floor and checked the magazine.

"And did you tell her to take Jill?" he said, narrowing his eyes.

Keller swallowed hard before he turned back to face Chris and Claire.

"I asked you a question. Did you tell her to take Jill?" Chris's tone of voice was low and menacing, deliberately pronouncing every syllable.

"I…I told her that she would need something to gain your trust, that you wouldn't just help her if she appeared on your doorstep."

Chris shook his head in disbelief. He raised his weapon and pointed it at Keller's head. The older man didn't flinch.

Chris's finger twitched on the trigger. "You had better give me a reason not to kill you right now."

"I'm telling you everything Chris, because you deserve that. And yes, maybe I deserve to die after everything I've done, but I'm trying to put things right before I die. I don't have long now." He coughed heavily, almost doubling over. "I have…tumours in my lungs." he wheezed.

Chris wasn't moved. He had heard this before and wondered why it was that people suddenly developed a need to 'put things right' only when they had been caught out and forced to face their sins.

"You're damn right you deserve to die." Chris said through gritted teeth.

"Wesker threatened to expose my link to the Mexico incident unless I helped him. My reputation… means nothing to me now. But my family…"

"I said give me a reason _not_ to kill you!"

"He took my wife Chris."

"What?" Chris flinched.

"Wesker took my wife." he said sadly. "He said he would kill her – and my children – unless I used you to destroy Carter's organisation."

Chris lowered his weapon and sighed. "You know she's probably dead already."

Keller nodded slowly. He opened his mouth to speak, but there were no words. Chris could see the pain blatantly exposed in the old man's eyes.

"And what about her?" Chris gestured towards Elisabeth's body that was twitching involuntarily on the floor as is slowly healed itself.

Keller shifted his focus to Elisabeth. "I'm surprised she managed to fight it off this long. She must have incredible mental strength. Most Lazarus recipients suffered negative effects within days, sometimes hours, when not treated with the antivirus."

"How long? _For her_?" Claire demanded.

"Ten years." Keller responded, his tone of voice completely devoid of emotion.

"How is that possible?" Claire interjected, thinking instantly of Leon. "She hasn't been taking the antivirus. At least, not while she's been with us."

"I don't know how it's possible Claire, she used an early form of the virus, but her mind is irreversibly fractured as a consequence. It's almost like she's two different people now, each one a polar opposite, fighting for control."

"This is just getting ridiculous." Claire laughed sarcastically while shaking her head. "Are you telling me she has a split personality? Because I have no qualms killing both of them…"

"A side effect of the Lazarus virus is a heightened emotional state. The infected become erratic, aggressive, doing things out of character. They know what they're doing, but they're unable to stop themselves." Keller replied. "That's why both Wesker and Ephraim Carter were so interested in Elisabeth's work."

"Either way, she was going to kill you Chris. She's just too dangerous now."

"If you kill her, you'll kill the last chance you have of getting Leon back." Keller replied.

"What are you talking about?" Claire snapped.

"I know Claire. Since you brought him back, Leon hasn't been himself has he?"

Claire stared at Keller, her eyes narrowed. How did he know? How _could_ he know?

"It's because Elisabeth didn't give him a full dose of the antivirus. He had just enough to slow it down."

"_What?_" Claire shouted. She launched herself towards Keller and grabbed him roughly by the collar of his black shirt. He offered no resistance. "_What do you mean she didn't give him the antivirus? We saw her do it! It was the antivirus she used on Jill, and that worked fine!"_

"No, Jill was practically cured before you rescued her."

"But why? Why would she want to hurt Leon? He virtually sacrificed himself for her for God's sake!" Claire wailed.

"It's her life insurance Claire." Keller replied sadly. "She knows that you won't be able to kill her while you still need her. Unless he gets the antivirus proper, Leon _will_ turn, and you _will_ have to kill him. At least, before he tries to kill you."

Claire let go of Keller's shirt and released a quiet sob. She was beginning to understand just how Chris had felt all these years, knowing that someone was manipulating her every move.

"It's a good sign that he's lasted this long. But for now, we have to leave this place. In case you haven't realised already, this is a trap."

"No." Chris said firmly. "We've come here to finish this, and we're not leaving until it's done."

"Not today Chris. If you go down into the lab, you're a dead man."

Chris smirked. "Yeah? So what's down there that I haven't seen already?"

Keller took a deep breath. "Hell on Earth."

**--**

Jill Valentine was crouched beside one of the huge concrete supports in the centre of the laboratory situated in the bedrock beneath the oil rig. She attached a block of plastic explosive to the column but then looked up, briefly glancing at the fluid-filled tanks arranged all around her. Jill re-affirmed the location of the elevator – seemingly the only exit – on the far side of the room. The heavy metal doors were still open. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable, almost like she was being watched by a hundred pair of eyes. Each one of the figures floating within the chambers was inert, but they still seemed threatening.

"Jill?" a voice called out from the distance. "How are things going over there?"

Without realising, Jill was staring intently into one of the chambers situated immediately to her left. She was sure that she had seen movement. There was a gentle hum created by fans that circulated the fluid within the chamber, and the numerous tubes inside moved rhythmically with the resultant current. The masculine figure floating in the chamber looked relatively young – thirty years old at most. Although dressed in what appeared to be a tight-fitting black jumpsuit, Jill could see the man had excellent muscle definition. His facial features were smooth and relaxed, almost like he was in a deep sleep.

"Jill?" the voice repeated.

"Err, yeah. I just need two more minutes to attach the timers and then we're all set Carlos." Jill replied as she re-focussed on her task.

Carlos was standing with Rebecca in front of a computer terminal at the end of the room furthest from the elevator. Rebecca was skim-reading through pages of text and images displayed on a large monitor attached to the wall.

"This confirms that they're all clones. They have identical genetic make-up." Rebecca said to Carlos without taking her eyes off the screen.

"Why would they be interested in _human_ cloning?" Carlos sounded perplexed. "I thought bio-organic weapons were more their thing."

"They're all being treated with a super-concentrated form of the Lazarus virus." Rebecca said while tracing the lines of digital text with her right index finger. "I remember Elisabeth saying that in a small number of cases, it irreversibly binds to the host's D.N.A and the antivirus has no effect. It's my guess that they cloned someone who was genetically susceptible to it, exaggerating its effect."

"So these are more like _enhanced_ supersoldiers." Carlos said quietly. He glanced back over his shoulder to see the rows of tanks that filled the laboratory behind them. "Jesus Christ."

"They're more dangerous than anything we've seen before. They're stronger, faster, and harder to kill. But even worse, they can walk among us undetected until they make their move." She pulled her eyes away from the screen and looked straight at Carlos. "We can't let them out of here. _No matter what happens_."

Carlos nodded emphatically. He then turned his body in order to get a better view of Jill who was attaching the final timing device to one of the concrete columns. She was completely engrossed in her task. Carlos knew she was more than capable of looking after herself, but for the first time on a mission, he felt protective of her. Worried about her almost. She was physically fine, but he realised that no one knew for the sure the long term effects of being exposed to the Lazarus virus. Not even Rebecca.

"Three hundred and forty two."

Carlos snapped his head to the right to see Leon standing next to him. He stepped back, slightly startled, as he hadn't heard the other man approach.

"What?"

"There are three hundred and forty two tanks here."

"Did you count them all?" Carlos joked, although there was a slightly nervous tone to his laugh.

Leon nodded, but his face remained blank. "Rebecca, can you find out if this is all of them?"

"You think there are more of these things?" Carlos replied.

"Three hundred and forty two just seems like a strange number to me. Why not a hundred? Or two hundred and fifty? Or five hundred even? Don't scientists like to work with simple numbers?"

"There were…fatalities." Rebecca replied as she opened another digital folder of data on the screen. "Some of the clones didn't develop into maturity; some seemed unable to handle to the high Lazarus dosage and…oh my God."

"What is it?"

Leon and Carlos simultaneously turned towards Rebecca who suddenly went extremely pale.

"They…they…this is just…" she shook her head.

"Rebecca. What is it?" Carlos pushed.

"They…tested them."

"Tested them?"

"They wanted to find just how much they could take...to see just how far their bodies could be pushed before they wouldn't be able to regenerate."

Rebecca clicked a button on the keyboard and a number of windows appeared on the large monitor. One of the windows was a video. She enlarged the window so that it filled the screen and then pressed the small 'play' icon. They were suddenly bombarded by the sound of screaming. Rebecca stared, open-mouthed, at the moving image of a man strapped to a stainless steel gurney. He was naked from the waist up, writhing furiously, trying to pull his arms and legs free from their bonds. His chest was criss-crossed by a number of scars. Some looked bright red and were probably inflicted recently, while others had faded to a soft pink. Standing next to the gurney was a tall man in a white lab coat with numerous dark red stains. Rebecca's eye was caught by a glint of reflected light from an elongate metallic object he was brandishing in his right hand. It looked like a large scalpel.

Rebecca covered her mouth with her right hand and swallowed hard. She desperately wanted to look away because she knew what was about to happen, but she couldn't.

"Shut him up. It's distracting." The man wearing the lab coat ordered callously.

A second figure in a white lab coat stepped into the camera view and crammed what appeared to be a bundle of rags into the captive man's mouth. The screaming and pleading was immediately replaced by a muffled groan.

With his left hand, the tall man traced a line along the length of the captive man's torso while seeming to look to his companion for approval. He then rested the scalpel on the small indentation at the base of the exposed neck. His grip on the sharp, stainless steel tool tightened. Rebecca felt her whole body tense as the scalpel slid into the man's flesh with virtually no resistance. Torrents of bright red fluid traced the path of the scalpel as it progressed along the length of the exposed torso. Although the image was somewhat grainy, she could see the terror in the bound man's eyes.

Leon stepped forward and pressed a button on the keyboard, closing the window. "This doesn't change anything." he said coldly. "We have to finish what we came here to do."

"How could they be so cruel?" Rebecca said quietly as she wiped away a single tear that was sitting on her left cheek.

Leon shrugged. "Well, it's not like we came here to make friends with them. Gut them, blow them up…what's the difference?"

Rebecca turned sharply to face Leon, her eyes wide with shock at Leon's comment. She opened her mouth to speak but she didn't know what to say.

Carlos stepped forward quickly to put himself closer to Rebecca. "I think what Leon meant to say was that…"

"I meant exactly what I said. I don't need _you_ to speak for me Carlos." Leon said with a sneer.

Carlos was surprised by Leon's attacking tone. "And what the hell does that mean?"

"You know what it means. You're barely able to speak for yourself, never mind anyone else." Leon snorted.

Carlos stepped toward Leon. "If you have something to say Leon, maybe you should just say it instead of hitting me with cryptic clues."

Leon leaned forward towards Carlos and grinned. This seemed to aggravate Carlos whose shoulders tensed visibly as he clenched his fists.

"Enough!" a stern voice spoke behind them. "We have enough to deal with right now."

It was Jill. She gave both men a stony glance as she approached Rebecca.

"Rebecca, have you got everything you need from here?"

Rebecca nodded in response to Jill's question while brandishing a small black digital storage device in her left hand that she had used to upload data from the laboratory's computer. Meanwhile, Leon slowly backed away from Carlos. He was still grinning; seeming to enjoy the fact that he had annoyed his friend.

"It's time to go." Jill said. She tapped the small communication device in her ear. "Chris, come in."

There was no response.

"That won't work. The walls are thick. We're too deep underground." Leon said matter-of-factly.

Jill brushed off Leon's comment. "Chris, we're all set down here. We're on our way…"

The large monitor on the wall flickered and the image of a man appeared. Jill, Rebecca, Carlos and Leon slowly turned to face the screen. Jill felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck and a terrible sinking feeling developed in her stomach.

The man on the screen was old, certainly in his sixties or seventies. He looked distinguished, with carefully styled white-grey hair and a neatly clipped white beard that covered his chin that jutted arrogantly forwards. He spoke with a deep slightly rasping voice.

"I suppose congratulations are in order. You've successfully followed the trail Albert Wesker and General Keller set for you."

"Who the hell are you?" Carlos demanded.

"That's Ephraim Carter." Jill whispered in response.

"After everything I've heard about you all, I wouldn't have thought you would follow so blindly."

"What do you want?" Carlos demanded.

"But surely you didn't expect me to let you destroy _everything_ I have been working for all these years?" On the screen, Ephraim Carter clasped his hands together and a broad smile appeared on his face. "Well, you see, irrespective of what Wesker may have believed, every facility of mine you have compromised has been expendable. I've been saving the best for last. I have a _very_ special surprise for you. A test if you like."

"It's just a recording." Rebecca said to Carlos.

"You're supposed to be the best, so you'll be the ultimate test for my new soldiers." Carter seemed close to laughter. There was an undeniable look of glee on his face.

Jill shot Carlos a worried look. Her lip quivered.

"Let's get out of here!" Carlos shouted.

They all turned in unison and ran for the elevator at the opposite end of the laboratory. Just before they could get into the small metal compartment, the doors slammed shut. Rebecca pressed the call button on the wall to the side, but nothing happened. She pressed the button repeatedly, harder. Her hand began to shake.

"The door won't open." she shouted.

"Don't panic yet." Carlos said as he began to remove the control panel casing from the wall, exposing the wires. "I can get this." He said through gritted teeth as he struggled to remove the wires' plastic coating.

The room was suddenly filled with a loud, high pressured hiss followed by the sound of running water. Jill turned from the elevator and took a few steps towards the first of the chambers. The tubes inside were no longer filled with coloured fluid and the noise of the fans had ceased. Her attention was then caught by the clear fluid that filled the chamber – its level was decreasing rapidly. Within a few moments, it was below the head of the man inside who was beginning to stir. She glanced at the next chamber. The same was happening there. And the next chamber. And the next one.

Jill's heart began to race.

"Carlos…"

"I know!." he muttered.

"Hurry!"

"I know!" he repeated, his voice getting louder.

"I mean it! They're waking up!"

There was a short ring followed by the sound of a humming motor and grinding metal. The heavy steel elevator doors crawled open slowly, but there was no compartment, just exposed cables in the elevator shaft.

"Mierde!" Carlos cursed

"What?" Rebecca asked, her voice slightly shaky.

Leon leaned forward into the shaft and looked up. He could just discern the underside of the elevator as it progressed upwards. He stepped back into the laboratory, shaking his head.

"It's gone up to the surface. It's going to take a while to come back down." Leon said as he gripped the semi-automatic weapon that had been swung idly over his shoulder. "Looks like we're stuck here."

Jill moved closer to the tank that was immediately in front of her. The only sound she could hear now was her breath that quickened with each passing moment. She saw that all of the fluid had drained away and the man inside was slumped forwards; his face was pressed against the glass grossly distorting it. His eyes were closed but his fingers began to twitch. There was another sudden hissing sound and the tubes that were attached to his arms fell away and rhythmically swung backwards and forwards, hitting the tank walls repeatedly before coming to a rest.

"Jill – stay back!" Carlos ordered as he stepped away from the elevator console and checked the magazine in his weapon.

Jill glanced over her shoulder to see Carlos's worried expression when she was stunned by the sound of breaking glass. The next instant, she felt fingers grab her collar as she was dragged forwards. Her arms flailed as she tried to find something to her resist the incredible fprce that was dragging her.

Carlos began to run in Jill's direction as the sound of breaking glass came from all corners of the laboratory.

**--**

Elisabeth sat bolt upright. For a moment, she wasn't sure where she was, although her body felt sore all over. There was an uncomfortable buzzing sound in her head. She glanced from side to side as her eyes struggled to focus in the dark. She suddenly saw Chris and his sister Claire standing a few metres away from her, in deep discussion. Claire was binding a field dressing to a wound on her brother's shoulder.

She then saw a third person. It was Oscar Keller. _What was he doing here_?

Elisabeth was gripped by panic as the realisation of events that had transpired on the rig surface then hit her. She had killed Albert Wesker, and she was going to kill Chris.

She looked up into the indigo night sky and saw large grey clouds had covered the moon. The air hung heavy with a fine mist of rain, and the moisture had settled on her clothes and hair, making it curl.

"Welcome back." Chris said over Claire's shoulder.

Claire turned around quickly and scowled.

"Claire…" Elisabeth stammered.

Claire took a step towards the other woman who was now struggling to her feet. "Tell me how to help Leon." she spat.

Elisabeth looked at her with a blank expression.

"I said tell me how to help Leon!" Claire repeated with venom in her tone.

Claire withdrew her handgun from the holster by her hip and pointed it at Elisabeth's head.

"That won't kill me Claire. You know that now." Elisabeth said quietly, her voice barely audible over the sound of the waves that crashed against the rig's metal legs.

"If you don't tell me how to help him, I swear to God I'll make you wish for death."

Chris stepped forward and gently put his hand on Claire's shoulder. The vicious, menacing tone of her voice surprised him. "Calm down Claire." he soothed. "This isn't going to help."

"There's no need to threaten me. I'll do everything I can to help Leon when we get back to the S.T.A.R.S lab. But there's nothing I can do right now." Elisabeth said.

Claire shook her head. "I can't trust you. You're no better than him." She glanced across to the body of Albert Wesker that was still lying inert on the concrete floor.

This comment made Elisabeth flinch. "I promise I'll help him." she replied sincerely, looking directly into Claire's eyes.

Claire put her handgun back in the holster and sighed. She was almost certain that Elisabeth was lying, but if there was just the smallest chance that she could help Leon… she had to take it.

"We have to get down to the others." Chris said.

"I've told you Chris, it's a trap. If you go down there…" Keller said.

"If it _is_ a trap, then Jill and the others are going to need our help."

"Jill and the others are probably dead already. If you all die here, then it's over. The S.T.A.R.S will be finished. And there'll be no one left to fight."

"So what's down there?"

Oscar Keller took a deep breath before answering Chris's question. "It's an advanced… cloning facility."

Chris raised his eyebrows and smiled. "You're kidding me right? Clones?"

"It's true Chris." Claire interjected. "There are hundreds of them. I've seen them."

"And they're all infected with a very potent form of Lazarus." Keller added. "You've found his army Chris. And Ephraim Carter wants to use it to destroy you."

"Let's go down there and finish this." Chris said positively as he rolled his injured shoulder in order to loosen it.

"Didn't you hear what I've just said? There are hundreds of them down there. You can't win this fight Chris. It's better to take a small loss here today and come back fighting later."

"And by taking a small loss, you mean leaving Jill and the rest to die?" Chris snorted. "You really don't know me at all do you General?"

Chris spotted his weapon on the floor and moved over to pick it up. He checked the magazine and loading mechanism before turning back to face his superior officer.

"You can come with us Keller and finally do something good with what's left of your life, or you can run away like the coward you've shown us you really are."

"Chris…"

"It's your choice." Chris interrupted Keller.

Chris turned away and began to walk toward the bridge structure that led to the accommodation building and the elevator to the underground laboratory. Elisabeth and Claire followed suit.

As they reached the bridge, Chris stopped suddenly and turned back to see Oscar Keller. He hadn't moved.

"I though as much." Chris muttered under his breath, unable to hide his disappointment. He had given this man a final chance for redemption but he didn't want it. There was nothing he could for him anymore.

A few moments later, Chris, Claire and Elisabeth entered the accommodation building. They began to walk along the length of the room towards the elevator at the far side.

"All these years…" Claire began. "…he was working for them. I feel so stupid."

"We all fell for his lies Claire. Not any more though." Chris replied.

"But what about us? What's going to happen to the S.T.A.R.S? We can't carry on with him in charge." Claire's steps faltered. "Can we carry on?"

"We'll deal with that when we get back." Chris replied. "Let's just make sure we get back, alright?"

He smiled weakly at his sister, trying to reassure her, even though inside he was just as worried. Oscar Keller had been the S.T.A.R.S' strongest advocate. It was likely that without his support, the S.T.A.R.S wouldn't exist at all. Certainly not in the way they had this past few years. Could they return to the way things were before? All of them working alone or as part of renegade organisations, without the support of the military?

They arrived at the heavy steel elevator doors and Chris pressed the call button. He turned his head to see Elisabeth. She was staring at the ground, and seemed to be muttering something under her breath. Every instinct told him to kill her right there, but he wasn't sure he was physically able to anymore. She had recovered from serious knife and gunshot wounds in minutes, and he was certain that her mental state was deteriorating rapidly. She was more dangerous than ever, but there was a chance that she could help Leon. Leon had come on this mission expecting it to be his last, but if there was the smallest chance to save his friend, Chris was willing to take it. If Elisabeth had managed to fight off the effects of Lazarus for ten years, he was sure that Leon could hold out just a little bit longer.

The doors opened and Chris strode into the elevator compartment, closely followed by his sister. Elisabeth paused at the entrance. She looked at Chris, and then Claire who responded with a look of pure hatred.

"I'm sorry." she began. "For everything. I'm really sorry."

"We don't have time to waste." Chris said firmly.

Elisabeth nodded and stepped into the compartment. Chris pressed a button on the control panel and the doors closed. The elevator began to descend.


	19. Chapter 19 Things falling apart

**Disclaimer:** I don't own resident evil or any of the characters, and I certainly don't make any money out of this! I write for fun and that's that! It's taken me forever to get this chapter done, mainly because I wasn't happy with the way I'd originally intended the story to end. And I ended up doing two major re-writes which was annoying, but for the best (I hope). Anyway, this _is_ the penultimate chapter (20 chapters seems better than 19. I don't like odd numbers!) and hopefully I will get the next done before the end of the year!

**Chapter 19 Things falling apart**

"You don't have to do this Leon." Chris said quietly. "Rebecca's smart, I'm sure there's _something_ she can do to stop it. Or at least slow it down until..."

"You don't understand Chris." Leon interrupted, shaking his head sadly. "The thought's I'm having...these impulses...what's happening to me can't be stopped, or reversed. The antivirus just didn't work. I'm too dangerous to be around you now. To be around _anyone. _We both knew this could happen."

"But what you're asking me to let you do..."

"I'm not _asking_ you Chris."

Chris was leaning back on the chair in his office, cradling his head in his hands. Leon was standing at the opposite side of the room to Chris, staring at the newly re-framed picture of the old Raccoon City S.T.A.R.S that hung on the wall by the door.

Leon turned away from the picture to face Chris. "Why do you keep this?"

Chris exhaled loudly and leant forwards in his chair, planting both feet squarely on the floor. He stared silently into space, pondering Leon's question. He knew Leon was trying to change the subject and he had no intention of discussing his fate with Chris any further.

"I mean, why do you keep it on the wall where you can see it everyday, when it must remind you of..." Leon's voice tailed off.

Without saying a word, Chris opened the desk drawer near his right knee and pulled out a half-full bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He placed the glasses on the desk in front of him and then unscrewed the whisky bottle top before pouring a small amount of the straw coloured liquid inside each glass. He picked up one of the glasses and brandished it in Leon's direction. Leon hesitated briefly, but then took the glass from Chris.

"It reminds me of where I came from." Chris said.

Chris lifted his glass to his lips and paused.

"And it reminds me how quickly you can lose everything." he added quietly before he gulped down the contents of his glass in one go.

Although his face was devoid of emotion, Leon could sense sadness in the other man's reply. Other than Chris, Jill and Rebecca, he had never known any of the S.T.A.R.S, but he knew what the organisation meant to them. He took a sip of the whiskey from the glass Chris had just given him, and was immediately taken aback by the burning sensation in his throat. He hadn't drunk alcohol for a while, and it didn't taste good.

Chris put the glass down and looked directly at Leon, fixing him with an unflinching stare.

"Claire's going to be heartbroken. Again. You have to tell her what you're going to do. _Before_ the mission."

"LEON!" someone screamed.

"LEON! GET WITH IT!" The screaming voice was louder.

Leon blinked and suddenly realised that he was no longer standing in Chris's office at S.T.A.R.S headquarters. Instead of a glass, he was holding a powerful semi-automatic rifle. He quickly scanned the room and saw Jill struggling to free her arm from the grasp of a hand that was protruding through a jagged hole punched in the side of one of the numerable chambers that filled the underground laboratory. Leon noticed a fine trickle of blood on her arm where it had come into contact with the sharp surface of freshly broken glass.

"Let go of me!" Jill growled through gritted teeth. She was yanking her arm, desperately trying to break free from the grasp of the awoken soldier within, while her feet slipped on the floor that was now wet with the fluid that been released from the chamber.

Carlos ran forwards and skidded to a halt next to Jill. He tried to loosen the soldier's gnarled fingers that were securely wrapped around her wrist, but they held firm. For a brief moment he stared into the broken chamber, and into the face of the man - _the supersoldier_ - within. His eyes were wide open and glowing red, their fiery colour exacerbated by the pale waxy surface of his skin. He shifted his focus from Jill to Carlos and smiled.

"Are you afraid?" he said calmly. "Because you should be."

Carlos paused. He'd heard threats before, but there was something about the way the soldier spoke that un-nerved him. He didn't have the voice of a monster, but there was _something_ hidden behind those words.

"I don't think so." Jill said confidently as pulled the spare handgun holstered by Carlos's hip and aimed at the soldier's head. The soldier smiled, his eyes seeming to glow even redder than before.

Bang.

The soldier was propelled backwards as there was an explosion of red against the glass walls of the chamber. Jill was instantly released, and she stumbled backwards, struggling to retain her balance on the slippery floor.

"Fall back!" Carlos shouted as Jill gathered herself.

Jill looked up quickly to see a figure slowly emerging from each one of the hundreds of chambers lined up in the laboratory in front of her. They looked awkward and stiff at first, like creatures emerging from hibernation, but then they seemed to come to their senses and scan the room for their targets. Their glowing eyes locked on Jill and Carlos instantly.

Jill and Carlos raced backwards towards the closed elevator doors and with Leon and Rebecca, formed a ragged line against the back wall.

"They're coming!" Rebecca said, her voice shaky. She held onto her weapon tighter as she saw the first wave of soldiers begin to walk in their direction. They were slow at first, with tentative lumbering steps. With each successive step, their movements became more fluid and their pace quickened.

"Keep the line." Jill said calmly. "The moment the elevator doors open, we have got to get in there and get to the surface." She then glanced down to her arm that was becoming sore. Noting a cut and the trickle of blood that stained her t-shirt, Jill silently cursed herself for her own carelessness.

"We can't fight them all with these." Rebecca said, looking at the weapon in her hand.

"What's the matter Rebecca?" Leon replied, grinning. "Don't you like a challenge?"

Leon then closed one eye as he aimed at one of the approaching figures. He fired, and the figure instantly fell to the floor.

"Gotcha!" Leon smirked, his left fist punching the air at his side with satisfaction.

Jill and Carlos began to fire their weapons into the gathering crowd.

"Pick your targets." Jill said, straining her voice to be heard over the sound of gunfire. "Short, controlled bursts. Don't waste a shot."

Leon rolled his eyes and picked a new target. He fired, and the approaching figure fell heavily to the floor, just like the first.

"You don't need to tell me how to do my job, Jill." Leon said sarcastically.

"I'm not telling you how to do your job Leon." Jill replied, agitated. She fired at one of the soldiers that had broken into a sprint, and then turned her head to the side so she could face Leon. "I just don't want us to run out of ammo."

"I'm sure Carlos has enough for both of you." Leon muttered as he continued to aim and fire.

Jill caught Leon's snide comment and she opened her mouth to reproach him. However, Carlos gently tapped her on the shoulder and shook his head to the side.

"No" he mouthed, not making a sound.

Although she felt annoyed, Jill switched her attention to Rebecca who was standing a few metres beyond him.

"How you doing Rebecca?" she shouted.

"I'm good." came the instant reply.

Rebecca's voice was controlled and belied her fear. She couldn't understand why she felt so anxious this time. Maybe it was the overwhelming numbers - but she had faced situations as bad as this many times before with the S.T.A.R.S. Maybe it was the fact that this time, their adversaries looked human. They _were_ human, not walking mindless clumps of rotting. She didn't want to kill people. Real people. Not if there was a chance they could be brought back.

Rebecca's eyes quickly scanned the room. With every passing moment, she noted more and more of the cloning vessels were compromised from the inside, filling the air with the sound of breaking glass. Countless figures of Lazarus-infected soldiers emerged from the debris and continued to scurry towards Rebecca and her S.T.A.R.S colleagues. She took a deep breath and quickly turned her head to see Leon standing firm a few metres to her right. He had a strange look on his face - almost a look of exhilaration. The corners of his mouth were curled in an expectant grin and he repeatedly shifted his weight from his left to his right leg, his blood full of adrenaline.

A sudden flicker of movement in the corner of her left eye drew her attention. She turned her head to see a male figure leap over a series of metal filing cabinets and bear down on her, extraordinarily fast.

"They're trying to flank!" she shouted over her shoulder.

Rebecca pointed her weapon and fired. The soldier's head snapped backwards and he fell to the ground like a dead weight, although another figure appeared immediately from the fallen man's shadow. Fighting back the panic, she fired again. The second soldier stumbled forwards, but quickly scrambled to his feet without taking his glowing red eyes away from her. She fired again into his torso. The entry of the bullet into the man's body was marked by a fine cloud of blood, although it barely slowed his pace.

"The bullets aren't stopping them!" she shouted.

"Aim for the head." Carlos replied. "It'll slow them down if nothing else."

Rebecca fired again and a red bloody graze appeared on her attacker's left cheek. Before she could fire one more time, she felt fingers roughly grab her shoulders and drive her back against the cold concrete wall, painfully forcing the air from her lungs. She felt her gun ripped from her hand and heard the clatter as it fell to the floor tantalisingly close to her feet. Although struggling to breathe, Rebecca focussed all of her energy in her right fist which she drove into her attacker's face. He stumbled backwards, shocked, but quickly recovered and readied himself for another attack.

Without hesitating, Rebecca bent over to retrieve her weapon while cursing herself for relinquishing it so easily. As she straightened up, she noticed that the magazine had fallen out. Her hand shot to her belt for a replacement, but she sensed the soldier, arms raised ominously, hulking over her small frame.

Rebecca clenched her eyes closed and tensed her body, ready to receive the blow, but already planning her counter-attack. She suddenly felt a firm push on her right shoulder that knocked her sideways. The momentum made her crash awkwardly to the floor. She groaned and sat upright while quickly inspecting the cuts and grazes left on her hands and wrists from where she had tried to break her fall.

An unearthly grunt drew Rebecca's attention back to the soldier who was now grappling with Leon. Neither man seemed able to gain the upper hand. They suddenly broke apart, and Leon drew his knife from the leather sheath on his chest. His assailant's red eyes glowed with excitement as they slowly circled one another like caged fighters, each daring the other to make the first move. Leon took the initiative and drove forwards, smashing the butt of his knife into his opponent's face. There was a scream of agony as the other man collapsed to his knees, a trail of blood pouring from his nose and down onto his chin. Without hesitating, Leon swung his knife in a controlled wide arc. The soldier pressed his hands to his neck and emitted a low guttural groan. Rebecca flinched as she saw a cascade of red pour between the fallen soldier's fingers and down his neck onto his chest. The soldier then fell forwards without putting his hands out to break his fall.

Leon took a step forward and stood over the fallen man whose breathing was now shallow and ragged. He bent over and grabbed his dark, wet hair, yanking back the head. He turned slightly to face Rebecca and smiled before plunging his knife into the exposed flesh of the soldier's neck and twisting, opening a large wound. The soldier gasped one last time before his eyes closed and life left his body.

"They _can _be killed." Leon boasted as he pulled his knife from the soldier's neck and stood upright. "You just have to know how to do it."

Rebecca watched Leon. She noticed that he was breathing heavily and there was fine sheen of sweat on his unusually pale skin.

"_Who are you_?" she said to herself as Leon turned to face another soldier approaching him.

--

Claire Redfield was leaning against the side of the elevator while staring at the electronic floor display situated just above the control panel.

"Why is this so slow?" she whined as she kicked the metallic wall with frustration.

"Claire - tell me _exactly_ what you saw down there." Chris asked while checking and re-checking the magazine in his weapon.

Claire took a deep breath before replying. "It's a laboratory, a cloning facility."

Chris raised his right eyebrow and slightly titled his head to one side.

"Yeah, I know what you're thinking." Claire added quickly. "But there are _hundreds_ of them. Fortunately, they all seem to be unconscious."

"Are they infected with Lazarus?"

Claire nodded. "Yes. It looks like a concentrated form of the virus."

"It's the most efficient way to do it." Elisabeth said quietly. She was looking down at the floor, seemingly unable to look directly at either Chris or Claire.

"_What_?" Claire replied tersely.

Claire found being enclosed in a confined space with the woman who had just tried to kill her brother sickening. The sound of Elisabeth's voice only intensified her feelings of hatred. If it wasn't for Leon, she would have finished her off on the rig surface. And she would have taken pleasure in doing it.

"It's the most efficient way to do _what_ exactly?" Chris replied.

"If you have a subject infected with Lazarus - and clone this subject - the clone will inherit some of the Lazarus characteristics. They become normal genetic traits. It's…evolution."

"A bastardised form." Claire snarled through gritted teeth. "You _still_ just don't get it, do you?"

Elisabeth finally looked up at Claire, her expression blank, her red eyes half hidden by the blond hair that had fallen loose around her face.

Claire sighed. "I'm just wasting my breath."

"So what happens if one of these clones is re-infected with Lazarus? Say, with a stronger, more concentrated form?" Chris asked.

"Then you really do have the potential for a superhuman." Elisabeth replied. "Although the psychological side effects are also likely to be intensified. Possibly on an exponential level."

"Why?"

"It's just more likely. I don't know why…I mean, _I_ haven't studied this so I don't know for sure."

"Isn't this you life's work?"

"I'm a geneticist, not a psychiatrist Chris. I can predict how the human body will behave on a molecular and genetic level, but the mind...that's a completely different thing altogether."

"More lies." Claire said, rolling her eyes.

"Maybe Lazarus somehow re-activates an inactive gene. Something primeval in our genetic code that..." Elisabeth's voice trailed off.

Chris rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "What I don't understand is why would they want to clone a virtually uncontrollable army? I mean, what use is an army that won't do as it's told?"

Elisabeth sighed and stared at Chris.

"What?" he asked. "What else do you know?"

"At the lab I worked at – they were doing…_other experiments_."

"What kind of experiments?"

"I had nothing to do with it."

"_What kind of experiments?_" Chris repeated, his voice raised slightly.

"They found that that those infected were highly susceptible to suggestion. It was something to do with the psychological side effects of Lazarus. Some kind of chemical reaction in the brain maybe…_I just don't know_."

Claire snorted and shook her head in disbelief.

"What do you mean by suggestion?" Chris asked, his tone serious.

"Ever since the company's inception more than thirty years ago, their goal has always been to create the ultimate soldier. They started with basic genetic engineering – creating clones of their own scientists who were particularly gifted in one way or another." Elisabeth took a deep breath and looked straight at Claire who found her piercing stare uncomfortable. "They basically cloned people…_bred them_…for the specific skills that they wanted."

"How do you know this?" Claire asked.

"Because I'm one of them." Elisabeth replied, a tinge of sadness in her voice.

Elisabeth's squeezed her eyes shut, and Claire was sure that she could see a tear form and become trapped in one corner. Elisabeth turned her head away and blinked, removing the offending droplet of water.

"I found a file in a hidden room in the laboratory when we rescued Jill. It documented everything about me."

Claire looked at Chris. "Did you know anything about this?"

Chris remained silent.

"Why didn't you say something?" Claire's voice became raised. "We're on the same side Chris! You should tell me things like this."

Chris continued to star at Claire, unable to respond.

Claire took a deep breath. "You can share the burden sometimes you know. We're a team Chris."

Chris nodded.

"I know. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time."

Chris turned his head to face Elisabeth.

"So what about these cloned supersoldiers - if they're so mentally unstable, how is it possible to implant these commands?"

"You have to remember that Lazarus is virtually dormant until…"

"..until someone gets hurt, right?" Chris finished her sentence.

"That's right." Elisabeth nodded. "In most cases, it can take several months, or even years for any noticeable impact. So to begin with, these clones…or _supersoldiers_…are likely to seem just as normal as you or me, and they can follow commands."

"But if they get hurt in combat…"

"They'll deteriorate quickly. This is why they need these specific commands buried in their psyche otherwise like you said…they're useless. They probably won't know what they are doing. Even if they do, they won't be able to stop themselves."

"Just like Jimmy." Chris said quietly.

"Jimmy?"

"James McGarver." Claire interrupted. "Our man who was working at your lab. You know him, the man who you had killed."

"_I had nothing to do with that_." Elisabeth said quickly.

"Of course you didn't." Claire replied sarcastically. "The way you talk, anyone would think you were the victim in all of this."

"Take it easy Claire." Chris said softly. "How does it work Elisabeth? I mean, how exactly do you implant these commands?"

"Just like it is with a standard population of _normal_ people, a very small percentage is susceptible to hypnotic suggestion…_mind control_…whatever you want to call it."

"So whoever they chose to clone wasn't selected at random, they looked for very specific attributes." Chris added.

"Yes. Like I've said, I can't explain why, but something to do with Lazarus makes people particularly susceptible. With the clones, it was during the mid- to late part of the gestation phase…that's when they're completely unconscious and unaware of what's going on around them but their auditory functions are active. They could be programmed to follow specific orders or even to respond to subliminal messages. Things that no one else would notice."

"Enough." Claire interrupted. "There's only one thing I really need to know Elisabeth."

"What?"

"Can they be stopped?"

Elisabeth shrugged her shoulders. "Their regenerative abilities are likely to be much greater than normal Lazarus recipients."

"Don't you mean victims?"

Elisabeth ignored Claire's remark. "You would have to destroy them on the cellular level, otherwise they _will_ regenerate. And fast."

"Can they be stopped?" Chris asked.

"Everything dies Chris." Elisabeth replied, her voice quiet and controlled. "_Everything._"

The elevator compartment rattled as it finally ground to a halt. Claire's head snapped around to face Chris who was now staring intently at the doors that remained closed for what seemed like an age.

"Do you hear that?" Claire asked, tilting her head slightly. There was a popping sound, muffled by the heavy steel doors.

Chris nodded. "Gunfire. Get ready."

The door opened.

--

Jill stood firm as her shoulder absorbed the massive recoil from her sub-automatic machine gun as she fired into the gathering crowd of soldiers now just a few ten's of metres in front of her. She carefully picked her shots, each time aiming for the head. With each shot, her target crumpled to the floor.

"How's that elevator doing?" Jill shouted, straining her voice to be heard.

Carlos, who was still standing a few metres to her left, quickly glanced behind him. He saw a blinking light on the control panel situated on the wall adjacent to the elevator doors. The flashing red light indicated the elevator was still in motion.

"Not long now." he replied confidently.

The confidence in Carlos' voice was a lie. He had no idea how long the elevator would take; he was just hoping that it wouldn't be long because he knew they couldn't hold out too much longer. With each passing moment, the soldier's line was getting closer. For each one they seemed to shoot, two more would appear in their wake, casually stepping over the fallen bodies of their cloned comrades. If they could be kept at a distance, they had a chance. But if they got too close, they would be overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

Jill pulled over a filing cabinet that was pressed against the wall near the elevator doors. She wanted to keep some kind of barrier, no matter how insignificant, between herself and the approaching soldiers. She glanced to her far left to see Leon standing a few metres in front of Rebecca. He was alternating between shooting the approaching soldiers and lashing out at them with his knife when he allowed them to get close enough. Splatters of their blood stained his shirt and dripped down his arms onto the floor. Jill was equally impressed and disturbed by the ease of his movement and the apparent pleasure he was taking in the kill. She had never seen him like this before. Watching him now, she knew for sure that he was fighting on strength and innate skill alone, and that his normal control was lost. Except for maybe Chris, there was no one in the S.T.A.R.S who could better Leon in a fight. And for the first time, this realisation terrified Jill.

Her attention was tore away from Leon by the sound of approaching footsteps. She looked up in time to see three soldiers bearing down on her. She quickly reached to her utility belt and pulled out an incendiary grenade. Jill swallowed hard and then pulled the pin.

"Fire in the hull!" she shouted as loud as she could before throwing the small round object towards the three figures fast approaching her.

Jill covered her eyes with her left hand. She couldn't see the explosion, but she felt a blast of scorching hot air on her face. This was followed by the sound of screaming and the air became filled with the odour of burning hair and flesh. A thick, acrid cloud of smoke enveloped the immediate area, and slowly crawled between the broken cloning vessels towards her. She coughed as she inadvertently breathed it in, tasting its foulness.

Suddenly, a moving ball of flames ploughed through the smoke towards her. She took a step backwards as she realised it was one of the soldiers. Although his skin was still on fire, coated by the incendiary material within the grenade, he continued to run in her direction with his arms stretched out in front of him, his mouth wide open in a wild, protracted scream. She aimed her weapon and fired.

He kept running.

She fired again, this time the burning soldier's head was flung backwards with the impact of the bullet as it penetrated his skull. But he kept running blindly forwards towards her, seemingly oblivious of his injuries.

Jill continued to fire round after round into the soldier's body until the loud cracking sound of her gun firing was replaced by a series of empty clicks. She dropped her rifle and quickly reached to the handgun holstered by her hip and resumed fire, although now the soldier had leaped over the fallen filing cabinet and was standing immediately in front of her, staring directly into her eyes. Jill returned the stare, mesmerised by the red colour of his irises. The soldier suddenly lurched forwards and grabbed her wrists. He leaned into her so that she could feel his breath on her cheeks as he exhaled. The blackened skin on his face was beginning to blister and peel, revealing red bloody tissue beneath.

She tried to back away from him, but the cold stone wall behind her blocked her escape. Jill grimaced as the flames on his hands caressed the bared flesh of her wrists and the material of her shirt sleeves began to smoulder. The more she struggled, the tighter his grip became. He was excited, like a cat cruelly playing with a mouse before striking the final devastating blow.

"Welcome back…_Jill._" the soldier spat, his cracked, bleeding lips curled back into a mocking smile.

"Whaa….?" Jill was puzzled. How did he know her name? How could he know her name?

"Are you ready to die this time?"

"_No_." Jill thought. "_I am not going to die down here._"

Jill smiled, her reaction seeming to catch the soldier off guard. She concentrated all of her strength into her right leg and kicked him squarely in the groin. He sucked in a deep breath before he doubled over in pain, releasing Jill in the process. She kicked the soldier again, this time concentrating on his knee joints. The soldier fell to the floor.

She patted her smouldering sleeves and then quickly retrieved a fresh magazine for her handgun, slamming it tight into the compartment. Jill looked down at the soldier who was now curled up on the floor in a foetal position. Only moments ago, his skin was blistering, black and charred, but the flames had now subsided and already she could see patches of pristine pink flesh beginning to appear all over his body.

"They're not dying!" Jill shouted as loud as she could, managing to catch both Carlos' and Rebecca's attention.

"What?" they replied in unison, both of their voices sounded worried.

"They're regenerating already!" she replied while gesturing to the soldier on the floor in front of her.

Jill's eyes widened as she looked towards a number of fallen bodies that were starting to twitch and come back to life. One of them was now on his knees and tentatively trying to stand. Also seeing this, Rebecca glanced to the body of the soldier Leon had wrestled to the ground. The large knife wound on his neck had healed and his hands were beginning to claw at the floor as he regained consciousness.

"Here too!" Rebecca shouted.

Jill repeatedly fired her handgun at another approaching soldier who was crawling towards her over the twitching bodies on the floor. She had to empty the magazine in her handgun to stop his progress.

"This is just not strong enough!" she cursed her weapon, while simultaneously slamming in another magazine.

She looked almost longingly at her rifle that was lying idly on the floor next to her. Jill patted her pockets, searching for another magazine but despite her efforts, she had used all her rifle ammunition and was now solely dependant upon her handgun. She had a small number of grenades, although she realised that these would likely detonate the explosives she had set a few minutes earlier, killing them all. The soldiers kept coming and Jill began to panic.

Jill removed her final incendiary grenade from her utility belt.

"Fire in the hull!" she shouted, throwing the grenade a few metres in front of her.

A quiet explosion was followed by a blast of searing heat and more screaming. Jill turned her head to see Carlos. He too had used all of his rifle ammunition and was now firing his handgun.

"We're not going to make it Carlos." Jill said softly. She had unconsciously removed the detonator switch from her pocket and was holding it tightly in her left hand while rhythmically tapping it against her thigh.

"Don't say that Jill." Carlos replied. "I've never heard you say anything like that before…so don't start saying shit like that now." Carlos replied.

"We can't let them get out of here. They…this place…have to be destroyed. And if that means…"

"JILL – GET DOWN!"

Jill spun around quickly to see Chris standing almost directly behind her in front of the elevator doors that were now open. She smiled and breathed a sigh of relief before almost throwing herself to the floor and protecting her head with her hands.

Chris, followed by Claire who appeared behind him, fired into the mass of soldiers who were now little more than a few metres away. Many of them were riddled with gunshot wounds – in their heads, their torsos – but it seemed to have little effect on their mobility, or their apparent desire to reach them.

"GET IN!" Chris shouted.

Jill scrambled to her feet and ran into the elevator, closely followed by Carlos.

"Rebecca, Leon!" Chris shouted.

Rebecca heard Chris's call and immediately ran towards the elevator. As she turned, she felt a hand brush her back, but fortunately she was too fast. She all but threw herself into the elevator compartment and was caught by Chris. She looked up.

"Hey."

"Are you okay?" Chris asked gently.

"I'm fine, but Leon…"

"What about Leon?" a voice said.

Chris and Rebecca looked up simultaneously to see Leon casually enter the elevator compartment. He was covered with blood. Leon noted the concerned look on their faces and smiled.

"Don't worry, it isn't mine."

"Right, let's get out of here." Carlos said before pressing the single button on the control panel.

The doors began to close, their motion painfully slow. Just as the opening was less than a metre wide, the bright white strip lights in the elevator compartment and the laboratory were replaced by dull green emergency lights. The light on the elevator control panel went out and the doors froze.

"_Oh God, what now?" _Carlos moaned in frustration, looking upward.

"They've cut the power." Jill muttered.

"How can they cut the power?" Carlos replied. "They're animals!"

"We've got to get the power back on. There must be some way to access the facility's electrics down here. But where…?"

Claire stood forwards and began to fire through the metre-wide gap where the elevator doors hadn't completely closed. "Well, whatever we're gonna do, we better do it fast."

"I think there was a master control switch on the far side of the lab. I saw it when I was downloading the data from the server." Rebecca said quickly.

Elisabeth stepped forward from the back of the compartment. "Chris…give me a gun."

Chris paused, and then reached to his right hip for his spare handgun. He removed it from its holster and held it out in front of him.

"You can't let her have that…" Claire protested.

"Am I missing something here?" Carlos said as he inspected Chris, noting the heavy dressing wrapped around his shoulder. "Jesus Chris – you look like hell."

Carlos then looked across at Elisabeth, seeing that the front of her shirt was torn and bloody. He jumped backward when he saw the red colour of her eyes.

"She's one of them!" he said, aiming his gun at her head.

Chris gently placed his hand on Carlos' gun.

"I know Carlos, but it's okay. Trust me on this."

Carlos' hands began to shake. He looked at Chris, then back at Elisabeth. He had known all along that there was something not right about her…but why was Chris trying to protect her? His finger tensed on the trigger.

"Carlos…" Chris repeated. "It's okay. Lower your weapon."

"But Chris…"

"Carlos…_that's an order_." Chris said with authority.

Carlos breathed in deeply and lowered his weapon.

"Well, it looks like I've missed the big reveal." Leon added sarcastically.

"Enough." Chris said. "One of us has got to get back to the main control console in the lab and re-route the power back to the elevator."

"I'll do it." Jill said confidently.

Both Chris and Carlos's heads snapped around simultaneously to face her.

"No way Jill." Carlos replied. "Whoever goes out there probably isn't coming back."

"We're not leaving you. _We're not leaving anyone behind._" Chris said firmly.

"I'll do it." another voice said quietly.

"What?"

"I said I'll do it." Elisabeth repeated, her voice sounded shaky.

"I don't think so." Claire snorted. "Thirty minutes ago you were hell bent on world domination... " she jeered.

"Let me do this. I said I wanted to finish this, and I will."

Claire scowled at the other woman.

"I don't _want_ to die Claire."

"You're coming back with us. You said you could help Leon…"

"Jill can help Leon."

Claire looked at her, puzzled.

Elisabeth pushed past Claire and Chris and stood at the threshold of the elevator compartment. Chris placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You don't have to do this Elisabeth." he said.

"Yes I do." she replied quickly in a hushed tone.

Elisabeth took a couple of deep breaths, psyching herself up as she looked at the mass of faces in front of her. There must have been at least one hundred soldiers between herself and her destination at the far side of the room.

"Jill." she said, staring straight forwards. "You have the _real _antivirus. You've had it all along. _You_ have to survive."

"What?" Jill said, surprised.

"Cover me." she said, before she took a final deep breath and ran forwards, using her right shoulder to push the nearest of her foes out of her way.

In no time at all, Elisabeth felt hands gripping her shoulders from all directions. She raised one of her elbows, and smashed one of the soldiers in the face, knocking him backwards and clearing a small path. There was a loud bang and the hand that was gripping her other shoulder suddenly went slack. A spray of blood hit her face. Some of the blood dripped down her cheek and made its way into her mouth. She gagged at the metallic taste, and spat out the offending fluid.

Elisabeth continued to push herself forwards, dodging the soldiers as she went. Despite her recent injuries, she was virtually healed and still exceptionally strong and agile. Chris and Claire were successfully taking down the soldiers who were directly in her path, aiding her progress forwards. Eventually, she made it to the far side of the laboratory. She scanned the back wall and identified the main power switch on the control console that had been set to the off position. Elisabeth flipped the switch but there was a quiet sizzling sound. She tapped the small communication device in her ear.

"There's a short in the switch, probably all this water. I just need a few seconds to take the panel off and fix it. Hold tight."

"We're counting on you Elisabeth." Chris replied.

Elisabeth ripped the surface off of the control panel. Her hands were covered in a mixture of blood and sweat, making it difficult to grip. She tore out a number of wires and stripped away the plastic coating, baring the fine copper underneath. She selected two and twisted them together. Almost instantly, the power resumed and a bright white light replaced the dull green of the emergency light.

"Elisabeth – the elevator's back online. Get back here. We can cover you."

Elisabeth rose slowly to her feet while still facing the back wall of the laboratory. She was almost afraid to turn around.

"Elisabeth – get back here. Now!" Chris ordered.

"Go." she said quietly.

"You get back here Elisabeth, that's an order."

"Just go." Elisabeth repeated as she removed the comms device from her ear and placed it on the computer console next to her.

She took a deep breath and slowly turned around while looking down towards the ground. Eventually she looked up and was surprised to see that the soldiers had stopped moving. They were standing still in a ragged line in front of her, their eyes burning into hers, almost like they were waiting for her to say or do something.

Elisabeth looked past them and caught a glimpse of Chris who was standing just in front of the open elevator doors some way in the distance at the opposite side of the lab. He was gesturing wildly in her direction, trying to get her to come back. She shook her head slowly from side to side. Seeing this, Chris lowered his arms and stepped back into the elevator compartment. Although she couldn't quite see the expression on his face, she could see him nod. She nodded in response as his face finally disappeared behind the heavy steel doors as they closed.

The soldiers were still standing like statues in front of her.

"Welcome home Dr Badley." a voice said.

She scanned the soldier's faces, trying to identify which one had just spoken.

"Welcome back Dr Badley." an identical voice repeated, but this time from the opposite side of the room.

Elisabeth took a step backwards and realised for the first time that her hands were shaking almost uncontrollably. This moment had been a long time coming, but now that it was finally here, she was afraid. Although in one way, it was almost a relief. For a long time, she had been afraid to live, knowing that at any moment she could lose control, and her mind would be lost. After her fight with Wesker, she _had_ lost control, and for a brief time she was consumed by thoughts of power and violence. What terrified her was that those thoughts _were_ her own, but she couldn't understand where they had come from. And she couldn't restrain them. Somewhere deep down in her consciousness, she had wanted to take complete control of Lazarus and those infected with it. She had felt it was her right.

"Welcome back Dr Badley." A number of voices spoke this time, all in perfect harmony.

"My army." she said in a whispered laugh before she was blinded by a powerful light and deafened by an almighty roar. She could sense the ceiling collapsing all around her.

And then she felt nothing.

--

The elevator doors closed slowly and it began to ascend.

Chris looked at Jill.

"You okay?"

Jill nodded and smiled.

"Perfect timing – as always Redfield." Carlos said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Let me look at that shoulder wound." Rebecca said, stepping forward. She gently placed her hand on the dressing that had tightly bound the joint. The white bandage was stained with Chris's blood.

"It's fine Rebecca." Chris said, looking directly into her eyes while he simultaneously placed his hand on top of hers. "We can deal with it when we get back to headquarters."

Rebecca stood back.

"You've got to stop getting hurt. You're not as young as you used to be you know." she teased.

Chris smiled, and then tapped the comms device in his ear.

"Justin…come in."

There was a second or two of static, followed by a muffled voice.

"Chris…can…barely…you…"

"Justin - we need immediate evac."

"Okay…can…there…ten minutes." Justin responded, his voice clouded by static.

Chris looked at Jill. "You set them?"

Jill pulled the detonator switch from her pocket and nodded. "Just a few more metres and we'll be high enough."

Chris took a step backwards and pressed his back against the cold steel of the elevator wall while grasping the handrail.

Jill placed her finger on the detonator switch. She looked up, looking at each one of the elevator's occupants in turn. "I suggest you all hold on."

Jill pressed the switch.

There was a long, drawn out rumble and the elevator compartment began to vibrate violently. The strip lights on the roof flashed off and on repeatedly. Chris, Jill, Carlos, Claire and Leon stood in silence, each one holding their breath, afraid to breathe until they felt fresh air hit their faces.

A few moments later, the elevator stopped moving and the doors opened.

Chris took a few tentative steps forward into the accommodation block that was situated on the surface of the oil rig complex. It was exactly as it had been a little while ago – a number of single beds arranged along the length of the room, each with a small locker at one end that held a number of personal artefacts.

"Let's get to the helipad." Chris said, his voice echoing in the empty room. "I've had enough of this place."

Chris began to walk forwards, and the others followed suit. In the distance, he could see a pale orange light through the partially open door. It was dawn.

"Aren't you gonna contact Keller?" Carlos asked.

Chris and Claire gave each other a knowing look.

"Erm…later."

"What's wrong?" Rebecca asked. She could tell instantly from the tone of Chris's voice that something was out of place.

"Let's just get to the chopper first." Chris said, trying to change the subject.

They reached the far side of the room, and Chris pushed open the door, bathing the S.T.A.R.S in the gentle warmth of the early morning sun. They continued to walk towards the bridge that linked the accommodation block to the main rig structure and the site of the helipad.

Chris tapped his comms device.

"Justin? How long?"

"Hey Chris." Justin's voice was much clearer this time. "Give me seven minutes."

Chris stopped just before the bridge and looked around slowly. The rig looked different in the daylight, less threatening somehow. Still, he held his weapon firmly in his right hand. He knew they weren't safe until they safely onboard the chopper and off the rig.

The S.T.A.R.S walked forward across the bridge.

Leon stopped half way across and looked over the side at the grey water beneath. Large waves were crashing against the huge metal supports, and ice cold foam from the wave's hit his face.

"I think we can help you Leon." Claire said. "Elisabeth said something about Jill having the anti-virus. There must be something in her blood that…"

Leon shook his head. "I don't know Claire…I think it's too late."

"_We_ _have to try Leon_. I know you came here to..."

"Hey – move it you two!" A voice shouted.

Claire and Leon looked up in unison towards Chris who was standing at the far side of the bridge.

Claire looked back towards Leon and gently placed her hand on his arm.

"Come on Leon. Let's go home."

Leon smiled weakly and nodded. "Okay."

They both continued to walk forward and eventually made their way to the open expanse of the helipad. Claire glanced at Chris who was now staring into the horizon, looking for the approach of the S.T.A.R.S helicopter. Carlos and Jill were standing in silence a few metres to the right of Chris.

"You know, when we get back, I'm going to let you cook for me."

"You are?" Leon smiled at Claire's comment. "Well, that's very kind of you."

"And when we get you fixed up, we're going to spend some time together. _Just you and me_." Claire reached for Leon's hand and squeezed. "Like we should have done a long time ago."

"Well, that's very touching." a familiar voice spoke behind them.

Claire turned around slowly and her mouth fell open. She watched, almost paralysed, as a solitary figure brushed past her and walked into the centre of the helipad.

"I didn't expect you _all_ to make it back here. I suppose I'm the latest in a long line of people to have underestimated you."

Chris spun around and stood staring at the figure, open mouthed.

"_You_ especially." The figure said, pointing at Chris.

"You're…." Chris struggled to speak.

"Dead? I take it I didn't make it?" The figure looked playfully from side to side. "Oh, I'm not here. What a shame!"

The figure brushed a few stray strands of blond hair away from her face.

"Elisabeth…" Chris murmured.

"So we're on first name terms now?" Elisabeth replied coldly. "She must have been good."

"Who _are_ you?" Claire stood forward, demanding an answer.

"I'm Dr Elisabeth Badley. _The real one_."

Chris studied the woman standing in front of them. She looked just like Elisabeth; mid-length blond hair tied neatly back, well-defined facial features and an athletic physique. Instead of the S.T.A.R.S standard issue combat fatigues, she was wearing a dark, well-fitted wool suit and white shirt. She didn't appear to be carrying a weapon.

"So who was she?" Chris asked, his voice had now regained its normal control.

"She was me of course." Elisabeth replied condescendingly.

"A clone." Rebecca interjected.

Elisabeth turned quickly to face Rebecca Chambers.

"Ah, Rebecca Chambers. I've always wanted to meet you."

"Well I can't say the feeling's mutual." Rebecca replied.

Elisabeth smiled. "Yes, you're right Rebecca. She was a clone, although she didn't do _exactly_ what I wanted her to do." Elisabeth looked at Chris and smiled. "It seems like she developed a mind of her own. That's very interesting."

Chris aimed his weapon at Elisabeth, who didn't even flinch.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

Elisabeth slowly raised her right hand, and almost instantly, a number of black-clad soldiers appeared on the helipad, encircling the S.T.A.R.S, their weapons trained on them.

"I want you to decide Chris."

Chris looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"I want you to decide which one of your S.T.A.R.S is going to die first."

Chris smirked. "You're mad."

"Decide!" she repeated, the smile disappearing, her face hardening.

"No."

"Choose Chris, otherwise I'll choose for you." Elisabeth glanced at Claire as she spoke.

"Then I choose myself." Chris lowered his weapon and took a step closer to Elisabeth. "Just do it."

Elisabeth laughed. "You don't seem to understand the rules of this game. I'm not going to let you become a martyr Chris. I'm going to make you responsible for the death of the resurrected S.T.A.R.S. Just like you were responsible for the death of the original S.T.A.R.S ten years ago."

A dark cloud seemed to pass over Chris's face.

"Just get on with it!" Claire shouted.

"Jill…" Elisabeth shifted her focus.

Jill's shoulders tensed at the sound of the other woman's voice as she called her name.

"Welcome back." Elisabeth said softly as she stared hard at her.

Jill found Elisabeth's stare uncomfortable, but she couldn't look away.

"Welcome back." Elisabeth repeated. "Now…I want you to kill Claire Redfield."

Jill shook her head. "What?"

"I want you to kill Claire Redfield. Now!"

Jill's arms began to shake, although she raised her weapon and pointed it in Claire's direction. She had no control over her actions.

"Jill – listen to me!" Chris said, his voice desperate. "Listen to the sound of my voice! You don't want to do this."

Jill's finger twitched on the trigger and a tear began to form in her eye.

"Chris…" she whispered. "I…can't…stop…myself!"

"Jill. Please…listen to me. She's put something in your head making you do this, but it's not you. _Get control_!"

Jill swallowed hard as the tear escaped from her eye and crawled slowly down her cheek.

"Get control Jill!" Chris shouted. "You're stronger than this!"

"I can't!" she replied.

Chris stepped directly in front of Jill. He held his hands up in front of her.

"Please Jill." He looked directly into her eyes. "Please. I…I…"

Jill's finger still wavered over the trigger.

Elisabeth shook her head and stepped towards Chris. She clenched her right fist and punched him in his injured shoulder with all the strength she could muster. Chris yelped and dropped to his knees.

"I'm disappointed with you Chris. Hell, for a minute there I thought you were going to tell her that you loved her." Elisabeth mocked. "A little inappropriate considering the circumstances, don't you think?"

She leaned forward and grabbed Chris by the dressing on his shoulder that had now come loose. His wound had re-opened, and his blood poured over Elisabeth's hands.

"If you don't decide, Claire is going to die first."

Elisabeth clenched the dressing tighter, making Chris wince.

"Last chance." she whispered into his ear.

Chris murmured something inaudible.

"What? Who did you say?"

"Leon." Chris swallowed hard. "Kill Leon."

Elisabeth released Chris and he fell forwards onto his left hand while clutching his shoulder with his right in an attempt to stem the flow of blood.

Elisabeth turned to look at Leon and shrugged her shoulders. "Jill – kill Leon Kennedy." she said matter-of-factly.

Her arms still shaking, Jill switched her aim from Claire to Leon. Claire noted a wry smile cross Leon's face before he ran forwards, taking everyone by surprise.

Claire flinched as Jill fired her weapon repeatedly until the chamber was empty.

Leon stopped mid-stride and clutched his chest. Blood poured between his fingers as the remaining colour drained from his already ashen face. He dropped to his knees and looked forward at Jill.

"It's okay…" he said quietly before coughing and spitting blood all over the concrete floor of the helipad.

Leon slumped forwards. He groaned as his face came into contact with the hard concrete floor. His body convulsed once before it relaxed and his eyes closed.

"So…" Elisabeth said. "Who's next?"


	20. Chapter 20 Slipping Away

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Resident Evil or any of the characters, and I certainly don't make any money out this! Apologies to those of you who have been following my story…it seems like forever since I updated. Too many things have been going on these past few months so I haven't been able to get enough time to sit down for long enough and concentrate on getting this finished. That, coupled with a massive case of writer's block and then indecision of exactly how this is going to end! Still, we're here now. And I lied about 20 Chapters – it's expanded to 21 (I think 10k+ words is a bit much for a single chapter). Clichés abound I'm afraid (originality isn't one of my strong points), but I hope it doesn't disappoint. As always, any feedback is appreciated!

**Chapter 20 Slipping away**

"Why are doing this to us?" Claire shouted in Elisabeth's direction, but the other woman ignored her, and continued to focus her attention on Chris who was still kneeling on the floor in front of her. He was breathing heavily, the colour slowly draining from his face.

Chris could feel the warmth of his blood as it escaped from the opened wound on his shoulder and crawled between his fingers, collecting in a viscous puddle on the cold concrete helipad floor. His body suddenly felt cold. He could feel the icy early morning air permeate his clothes and burrow aggressively into his spine. He shivered.

It was deathly silent. The soldiers that had now encircled them stood motionless, staring straight ahead. He glanced quickly at Jill who was standing a few metres away, her weapon now fixed on him. Her arms were shaking violently like she was trying to lower them, but some unseen force was stopping her. Her eyes, open and wide, betrayed her fear.

"_Just hold on Jill." _Chris said to himself.

"Elisabeth." he said quietly and softly, fixing his gaze upon her.

"Have you made your decision?" Elisabeth replied, her tone of voice was impatient. "Who's next?"

"I know Elisabeth."

"_What?_" she replied, her voice irritated.

"I know…_knew_ Elisabeth. She wouldn't have wanted this. She wouldn't have done this." Chris said, moving his head slowly from side to side. "She was a good person who did some bad things, but all she wanted to do in the end was make things right. _You _are a good person. I know that it's Lazarus making you behave like this."

Elisabeth swallowed hard and looked straight into the deep blue of Chris's eyes.

"You and her…you're the same. You don't just look the same, you think the same. _I know you too_."

"I…I…" Elisabeth stuttered.

"I know you were sick…you were going to die. But you overcame it. You designed Lazarus for good, truly thinking you could help people as well as yourself. But now you know the power of Lazarus, and what it could do if it got into the wrong hands."

Elisabeth's bottom lip began to quiver. Her eyes darted around the figures standing on the helipad – first across to Jill who was now standing behind her, then on to Claire, Carlos and Rebecca. Her eyes came to rest on Leon's inert body that lay prostrate on the floor.

"But Lazarus was manipulated…" Chris continued, sensing that he had found a way in to her psyche. "…by Wesker, by Carter…these people took it away from you and turned it into something evil."

Chris slowly pushed himself to his feet, uncurling his spine. He was almost overcome by another wave of nausea as he felt a shot of pain, like a bolt of lightening, in his shoulder. Swallowing hard to try to dissipate the feeling, he then edged closer to Elisabeth who was still staring at Leon's body.

"Mexico was a terrible mistake."

He took another step forwards so that he was now less than a metre away from her.

"You didn't mean for that to happen, you just wanted them to understand what you had created before they closed you down, before you could finish what you'd started. Things got out of control; you made a mistake, that's all. You're not a bad person Elisabeth. I know you're not. It's not too late."

Chris tentatively reached out his left hand and gently placed it on her shoulder. Elisabeth flinched at his initial touch, but made no attempt to move his hand away.

"Come back with us. Help us."

"Help you?" Elisabeth said quietly.

"We _need_ you Elisabeth; and you need us. It's not too late."

Elisabeth looked down at her hands. Chris noticed that they were trembling.

"There's a lot of blood on these hands Chris Redfield." she said while simultaneously raising her head to face him. Her arms then fell limp at her side.

"I know. You can't change what's happened, but..."

"I can change the future, right?" Her face hardened. "The person you knew – she's gone. You left her to die down there. She may have come _from_ me, but make no mistake, she was _nothing_ like me, not any more. That Elisabeth Badley died years ago. You don't know me Chris, because if you did you wouldn't be standing there right now, saying what you're saying."

"I don't believe that."

Elisabeth smiled and her eyes narrowed. "When I sent her to you, I had no idea she would be so effective. I wasn't sure that the _great Chris Redfield_ would fall for a Trojan horse, the oldest trick in the book. But you didn't, did you? You knew what she trying to do, even if she didn't know it herself. You wanted to save her, didn't you?"

Chris sighed. "Everyone deserves a chance to make things right."

"_Everyone?_ What about Wesker? What about me?"

"Even you, Elisabeth."

Elisabeth nodded and smiled. "Another time, another place maybe..."

She turned her back to him and looked at Jill, who was standing fixed to the same spot, her weapon still raised. Elisabeth could see the veins in Jill's arms protruding through her pale skin as she tightly gripped her weapon. She could see the pain in the other woman's face. Elisabeth felt some sympathy for her – she had just murdered one of her S.T.A.R.S colleagues, one of her friends. But she had brought this on herself Elisabeth argued. If she hadn't tried to escape while onboard the Methuselah, Ephraim Carter's research laboratory, she wouldn't have been attacked by the escaped bioweapon. And Elisabeth wouldn't have needed to use Lazarus on her to heal her wounds. And there was no way someone as strong-willed as Jill Valentine could be manipulated mentally unless under the influence of Lazarus. It was a cruel sequence of events that had led to this moment, but now they were here, there was no going back.

"You probably don't want to hear this, but we're actually quite alike Chris, you and I. We focus so much on what we want, what we think is the right thing to do, that we forget the small things. The things that are _really_ important to us. And it's only when you come close to losing these things that you wake up to yourself, and to what you've done. Or even worse, what you _should_ have done." She sighed. "But of course by then, it's usually too late."

"I know what's important. You've made me realise that these past few months." Chris said. "But I'm not going to let you take those things away from me."

Elisabeth glanced over her shoulder and smiled. Chris was a little taken aback by her smile. Strangely, there was no malice in her expression. "You _are_ a good man Chris, you're unbreakable. That's why Wesker hated you so much. That's why he wanted you to suffer before you died. He wanted to _break_ you."

She looked forward and the smile was replaced by a blank stare. "But I think you've suffered enough. All of you have suffered enough. There are things that I need to do now, and you will only make it difficult for me to do those things, whether you mean to or not." She looked down. "Jill – take him out."

"Jill…_no_!" Chris raised his hands. "You've got to fight whatever it is that she's put in your head!" Chris ordered.

"I can't Chris." Jill's voice trembled.

"Yes you can." he said softly.

Chris looked just over Elisabeth's shoulder and noted a small black object fast approaching on the horizon. Even from a distance, he recognised the distinctive outline of the S.T.A.R.S helicopter. He needed just a few more seconds…

"Yes, yes you can." Chris repeated, while trying to keep his voice calm so as not to alert Elisabeth to the helicopter's presence just yet.

Jill closed her eyes.

"Look at me!" Chris ordered. "Open your eyes Jill and look at me!"

Jill bit her bottom lip and fervently shook her head.

"If you wanted me dead, why don't you do it yourself?" Chris threw his words in Elisabeth's direction.

Elisabeth remained silent.

"_I said why don't you do it yourself_? Do you think that if someone else pulls the trigger, you're not responsible?" Chris taunted.

"Jill – _do it now_!" Elisabeth demanded.

Suddenly Chris's face was hit by a blast of cold air and fine debris, and he was deafened by the thunderous roar of helicopter blades.

"LEON! NOW!" he screamed.

Leon's body suddenly came to life and he sprang to his feet. He lunged forward and grabbed Elisabeth by her shoulders, trying to bring her down. For a moment she was startled but she quickly regained her composure and resisted, surprising Leon with her strength. She pushed him backwards with an effort and stared at his face. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"You're…infected. But _how? When?_"

Leon smiled. His formerly blue eyes were now a pale shade of pink. "Wasn't this part of your plan?" he sneered.

While Jill's attention was drawn towards Leon and Elisabeth, Chris leapt towards her and grabbed her wrists. Using his weight, he forced her backwards to the ground. They hit the floor heavily, painfully knocking the air out of their lungs. Almost instantly, Jill struggled hard to free herself from Chris's grasp. The gun in her hand fired, but the bullet ricocheted harmlessly off one of the steel safety handrails at the edge of the helipad. Chris straddled her, and repeatedly smacked her hand that was holding the gun on the floor until she released it. Blood poured from her knuckles where the skin had been torn open by the contact with the ground. Jill continued to struggle, her blue eyes looked wild.

"Jill." Chris said through gritted teeth. "Stop it. STOP IT!"

There was a burst of static on Chris's radio followed by a muffled voice.

"Chris, come in."

Chris released a deep breath. "Justin. Perfect timing."

"There are seven speedboats heading your way." came the harried reply. "ETA…two minutes maximum."

"We need to get off this rig Justin. Lay down some covering fire and land…"

"If I land now, you know we'll be exposed."

"Just do it. Watch out for the gas tanks. I don't want to have to get wet."

"Jesus Chris, I see them. If they go…there's going to be nothing left here but some twisted metal and a cloud the size of Texas. You'd better keep your heads down…"

The left corner of Chris's mouth curled upwards. "Justin…you've just given me an idea…"

The helicopter made a quick pass over the rig. The startled soldiers that had encircled the S.T.A.R.S looked up and fired at the fast moving object, but the bullets from their sub-automatic weapons were deflected by the helicopter's robust metal armour. They were now disorganised and seemed to look at one another for instructions.

"Take cover!" Chris shouted over his shoulder as he struggled to control Jill who was still fighting his grip on her wrists.

Rebecca, Claire and Carlos quickly glanced at each other before diving behind a number of metal crates stacked towards the edge of the helipad. Suddenly, heavy machine gun fire ripped up the concrete floor all around them. A number of the soldiers cried out as the bullets tore through their bodies, shredding their limbs. Chris threw his body flat on top of Jill's, protecting her head with his arms and hands. It took some time for him to realise that she had stopped struggling.

"I'm so sorry…so sorry." Jill murmured.

Chris pushed himself onto his elbows, his face just inches from Jill's. He looked down into her eyes that had returned to the natural calm state that he was familiar with.

"Jill?"

"I should have been stronger than that." she chided herself. "I remember _everything_…when I was on that ship…the Methuselah…_she_ was there…I tried to fight it but…"

"That doesn't matter now." Chris interrupted. "We've…no,_ you've_ got to get off this rig. More than any of us. If what Elisabeth…_the other one_...said was right, what you've got in your blood could be the only thing that could stop Lazarus if it gets out."

Jill's eyes glanced downwards. She slowly reached forward and brushed her hand against Chris's injured shoulder. He winced and pulled back sharply.

"You're bleeding. You've got to get this…"

"It's nothing." he replied dismissively. "It looks a lot worse than it is."

"Hey listen…" a male voice interrupted them. "I hate to break up this 'moment' you're having, but we've got problems."

Chris and Jill looked up in unison, first to see Carlos who was looking at them impatiently, and then to the black-clad, blood-soaked bodies scattered across the floor that were beginning to pull themselves up onto their elbows and push themselves to their knees. Their clothes were torn by the large bullets that had penetrated their bodies and sliced their internal organs, and the fact that they were still alive confirmed their infection by the Lazarus virus. With each encounter, Carlos realised the soldiers were recovering from their injuries quicker. Someone was changing the virus, making it more effective, faster. He retrieved a small handgun that was attached via a velcro strap to his ankle and stepped slowly backwards until he could feel the cold metal of the handrail at the edge of the rig platform pressing against his back. He looked over the edge of the platform and down at the violent ocean below. The icy cold spray from a large wave that crashed against the rig supports stung his face, almost taking his breath away.

"Mierde." he muttered as he noticed two black speedboats pull up and secure themselves to the rig support. In the grey early morning light, he could just distinguish a number of figures moving on the deck. One of them looked up in Carlos' direction and fired a grappling hook that attached itself to the metal handrail immediately inches from his hand.

"We have got to leave. NOW!" Carlos shouted as he moved to detach the hook, but jumped back as bullets ricocheted off the handrail dangerously close to him. Carlos then looked across to the far side of the platform. He squinted as he focussed on the feint outline of grappling hooks attached to the metal handrails.

Chris was now on his feet.

"They're coming." Carlos' voice sounded panicked. He scanned the floor for another weapon, realising instantly that the low powered handgun he was holding was going to be of very limited use in this situation.

"Keep cool." Chris said. "Carlos – you get Jill and Rebecca on the chopper when it lands. We're gonna blow the gas tanks."

Chris then looked towards Jill who was now sitting upright and staring directly back at him. He held out his hand. Jill nodded appreciatively and took it, pulling herself up to standing. Chris grimaced as the wound on his shoulder tore open a little more, every beat of his heart rhythmically pumping more blood from the hole. He fought to keep the pain and exhaustion that inflicted his body at bay. In his mind, he repeatedly told himself that he would have time to mend his injuries and rest later. Now, his priority was to get the S.T.A.R.S to safety. If he didn't, no one on the outside would ever know what had happened here. No one would know the true horror of Lazarus if it were to be unleashed on the world.

"Erm Chris…" Carlos began. "…you do realise that we're standing on an oil platform. You can't just start a small fire here."

"He's right." Jill added quickly. "This is a working rig. We won't be just blowing those tanks - there's nearly an infinite supply of fuel here."

"But what about…"

Jill pre-empted Chris's question. "We _definitely_ won't be able to use the guns on the chopper. They don't have the range. We'll get caught in the blast radius for sure."

"Okay." Chris nodded. "Do you have any C4 left?"

She shook her head firmly in response. "No. We used all we had to destroy the lab."

Chris took a deep breath. "Then someone is going to have to…wait…Claire?" Chris looked from side to side for his sister. "Where did she go?"

"I see her. She's over there, close to…_Leon_." Rebecca said as she emerged from a crouched position beside some splintered crates while gesturing to the opposite side of the helipad with her right hand.

Although his view across the rig platform was partially obscured by dust and debris torn up the attack of the S.T.A.R.S's helicopter, Chris could just discern the distinctive outline of his sister standing upright and exposed, looking towards two grappling figures. One of the figures was considerably larger than the other.

It was Leon and Elisabeth.

The S.T.A.R.S helicopter began to descend slowly. Chris struggled to remain standing against the strong downdraft.

"Carlos, get everyone onboard. I'm gonna go get Cla.…"

Chris didn't finish his sentence. There was a sudden flash of light followed by a deafening ringing in his ears. It took him a moment to realise that he was now lying on the ground, his arms spread at his sides. His surroundings began to spin furiously.

As his eyes began to re-focus, Chris looked up to see Rebecca's face a few inches above his own. She was talking, but her voice sounded muffled and distant, and he couldn't hear what she was saying. He realised his chest hurt. He felt winded, like he'd been punched hard, but he couldn't remember anything happening. It was only then he realised he couldn't move his body.

"_Move!_" he silently ordered himself, but his body didn't respond.

He felt Rebecca's hand brush against his forehead.

"_Goddamit Redfield – move!_" he repeated to himself in his mind. "_You can't afford to be lying here like this – you've have to get them off this rig!"_

He could see a look of concern on Rebecca's face as she yanked a clean white dressing out of a small canvas bag attached to her belt. She pressed it firmly onto his bare skin. Her lips moved, but Chris still couldn't hear her voice clearly because of the ringing in his ears.

"_Claire – where's Claire?_" he thought. He couldn't see her, and more worryingly, he couldn't move his head to the side to look around for her. He began to panic. He could feel his heart racing, his blood pounding through his veins at an uncontrollable and unsustainable speed.

Rebecca's head turned to the side and she began to talk to a figure just outside his field of vision. Seconds later, Chris felt himself melt into the floor and Rebecca and the unseen figure disappeared into blackness.

--

"So, when did it happen? When did you become infected?"

Leon Kennedy smiled as he took a step backwards and away from Dr Elisabeth Badley. They were both out of breath, their chests heaving with exertion. He raised his right hand and brushed his fingers through his red-streaked blond hair, pushing it away from his face.

"It looks you're in trouble Elisabeth." Leon said, his voice un-naturally calm.

"What?"

He smirked as he looked down. Elisabeth followed the trail of Leon's brilliant red eyes as they travelled down from her face, past her neck and chest, and finally came to rest on her lower torso.

She gasped. "Oh God."

Her shirt was dyed bright red with her own blood. It was torn open, and protruding from the bloody cavity were a number of rope-like, knotted tendrils. Elisabeth's hands shook and her whole body convulsed with disgust as she pushed her entrails back into her body and pressed her hand over the open wound. She forced herself to swallow as a foul taste - a mixture of vomit and blood – swelled up into the back of her throat.

"I guess one of the bullets from our chopper got you." Leon said as he began to slowly circle Elisabeth, who remained rooted to the spot. Her breathing became faster and more shallow. He stopped abruptly behind her. "That _does_ look painful." he whispered menacingly in her ear.

Elisabeth turned around sharply and glared at Leon. "I've survived worse than this."

Leon noticed that the wound was already beginning to heal, the jagged edges of her pale skin were knitting tightly together. Within less than a minute, all that was left of the open wound was a bright red line and a patch of fresh pink skin.

"That's pretty impressive." he nodded. "I wonder…"

"_What_?" she snapped.

"I wonder…" he repeated, his eyes becoming ominous slits. "…just how much you can take before your body finally gives up."

"You've totally lost control…" Elisabeth's hands dropped to her side and she slowly moved her head side to side. "I can see that there's no going back for you now."

"Who said I wanted to go back? I'm stronger now than I've ever been. I can do _anything_. Beat anyone…and that includes you!"

"No matter what happens here Leon, your life is over." Elisabeth taunted. "The S.T.A.R.S, Claire Redfield – they've seen the _real_ you."

The smile suddenly disappeared from Leon's face. His eyes opened wide, and the bright red colour of his irises seemed to darken to a deep crimson. His face became enveloped in shadow.

"YOU DON'T KNOW _ANYTHING_ ABOUT ME AND CLAIRE!" he shouted in a sudden fit of rage. He threw a wild punch in Elisabeth's direction. Although his sudden action stunned her, Elisabeth managed to dive to the side, evading contact by a few inches. She tripped and fell forwards, landing heavily. She groaned and pushed herself up onto all fours.

"They know what you are now Leon. What you're capable of." She spat out a mouthful of blood and clutched her stomach, realising the wound had re-opened. She pushed herself up to her knees, her shift in position tearing the wound open further. "_You're not a man anymore_."

Leon raised his fist and swung, but he froze, his fist inches from her face. The rage that had suddenly gripped him seemed to dissipate, and was replaced by confusion. He pulled back his fist and looked at it, seemingly transfixed.

"She got to you, didn't she?" Elisabeth teased.

"What are you talking about?"

"How did she do it? Did she confide in you? Did she make herself look desperate and vulnerable? Or was it the other way around? Did she take control?" She grinned, relishing the look of confusion on Leon's face. "Is that what you like?" she added in a whispered tone.

"No…shut up!"

"Did you enjoy it Leon?" In the corner of her right eye, Elisabeth made out a familiar black object lying in a dismembered hand amongst the debris on the floor. It was a grenade. "Did she ease your frustration?"

Leon shook his head, trying to erase from his mind the images of the evening he spent with the cloned version of Elisabeth back at S.T.A.R.S headquarters, not long after Claire had used the Lazarus virus to revive him after the Methuselah mission. He knew he wasn't himself back then, he didn't know why he did what he did. He knew what he was doing, but he felt like he had no control over his actions. He knew that it would hurt Claire, and the damage that he'd done to their relationship was almost irreparable. Elisabeth had planned to destroy the S.T.A.R.S slowly from within. Her copy had merely planted the seeds of distrust, while passively manipulating them all. Without the unquestionable trust that had bound them all together for so long, the S.T.A.R.S were made vulnerable.

"What did you enjoy more?" Elisabeth continued while surreptitiously shuffling to the right. "Sleeping with her, _with me_, or betraying Claire?"

"Shut up! I said SHUT UP!" Leon snarled while clenching his fists tight.

Leon could feel a powerful burning sensation growing in the pit of his stomach. He felt the heat envelop his chest and pass through his arms and legs to his extremities. Finally, it reached his head. The sensation made him temporarily light headed, but suddenly everything seemed still. Everything seemed so clear. This woman had caused all of this and she deserved to die. She had to be torn limb from limb, and each piece of her soulless corpse had to be scattered to prevent it reforming and causing more damage.

"You're rotten now, just like me." Elisabeth goaded, while shuffling further to the right.

Leon shook his head. "No no no…I'm not going to end up…"

"They're going to kill you Leon. The S.T.A.R.S, your friends, once they see you now, they're going to turn on you and cut you down without a second thought. You're little more than one of those monsters you all hunted on the streets of Raccoon City."

"You're wrong." Leon said firmly.

"Am I? Are you sure about that? What would _you_ do in Chris's place? Would you leave _your_ sister to the mercy of a monster?"

"_I'm not a monster_."

"Yes you are." she replied, shuffling. "But it doesn't have to end here. Come back with me and _I_ will find a way to help you." Elisabeth held out her blood stained hand. "Take my hand Leon, I'll tell my soldiers to stand down, and then you and I can walk off this rig."

Leon detected movement in his peripheral vision. A number of black-clad soldiers were vaulting the metal railings at the far end of the rig. They were well organised and moved swiftly.

"Clever girl." he smiled. "It looks like your backup's here. A little late though."

Elisabeth smiled in response, and then suddenly threw her body forwards, her arms outstretched in front of her. Leon immediately spotted her target - the grenade. He stepped forwards and kicked it out of her reach. He then grabbed her by her throat and casually lifted her body into the air. She kicked wildly and tried to prise away the fingers curled around her, but Leon's grip only tightened. Elisabeth struggled for air, her face glowing red as a million blood vessels in her skin burst open, spewing their contents. Leon could feel his heart race with excitement.

"Just…like…I…said…" Elisabeth gasped. "You're…a…monster."

Leon took a few steps forward, effortlessly dragging Elisabeth's writhing form next to him. Eventually he reached the edge of the helipad which was marked by the twisted remains of a steel chain fence. He callously threw the woman to the ground and knelt beside her. Elisabeth coughed and heaved as fresh air flooded into her lungs as the pressure on her throat was released. She suddenly scrambled forwards, but Leon caught her by the ankle and dragged her back to him.

"Maybe you're right." Leon said quietly. He reached forwards with his spare arm and grabbed one of the steel chains hanging loose from the broken fence. He then proceeded to wrap the chain around her wrists, securing her to a metal post. "Maybe I am a monster."

Leon then stood up and walked a few steps to the resting place of the grenade. He bent forwards and picked it up, tossing away the dismembered hand.

"What are you going to do?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Leon winked, before he turned and began to walk away. He took a couple of steps forward but then stopped suddenly and looked over his shoulder.

"Do you know who…_what_, you are?" he asked.

"What?"

"I said, do you know what you are?"

"And what's that suppose to mean?"

"The Dr Elisabeth Badley that I knew wasn't real, she was just a copy."

"What's your point?"

"How do you know that you're the real Elisabeth? You might be just another expendable copy, sent here to do her dirty work."

Elisabeth froze, her mouth half open, the response to Leon's question buried at the back of her throat. She watched in silence as Leon resumed walking.

"_Am I real?" _Elisabeth questioned herself. _"How do I know? She didn't know…at least, not at first." _She swallowed hard and shook her head_. "There's no way I'm just a copy. I have memories – lots of memories. I remember everything." _she tried to convince herself. _"I would know. Surely, I would know if…"_

A sudden burst of gunfire brought Elisabeth out of her reverie, and she switched her focus to the chains binding her wrists. She yanked hard, trying to loosen them from the post but they held firm. She quickly rotated her position, this time pressing the soles of her feet against the post. Again, she pulled on the metal restraints as hard as she could, the friction burning and tearing the skin on her wrists, but they still held her in place.

"Dammit!" she muttered, scanning the immediate area for a tool that she could use to help prise herself free. Apart from some random debris, there was nothing of use in the vicinity. She began to pull on the chains again, a feeling of dread growing inside of her. She looked over to the soldiers who were less than twenty metres away.

"HEY!" she shouted. "Over here! Get over here! Now!"

They began to run in her direction. Moments later, the first soldier was standing next to her.

"Help me get these off." she ordered.

The soldier knelt down and examined the chains. He ran his hand along their length and inspected the area where the chains were attached to the post.

"That won't work. Use your..."

Elisabeth was suddenly distracted by a sound just behind her. It was somehow familiar, and she turned her head to investigate. Her eyes were drawn to a small black object lying on the floor just a few metres away. It took a moment for the realisation of what it was to hit her.

"Grenade!" she shouted. "Use your gun to break these cha…!"

Leon, who was crouched half hidden amongst some smouldering crates a few metres away, watched as Elisabeth and her soldiers were enveloped by a fiery cloud.

--

"Chris? Are you alright? Say something!" Rebecca ordered. Chris stared back up at her, his eyes wide open, his pupils dilated. "Chris!"

He groaned and blinked. Rebecca's face and delicate features gradually came back into focus. Chris scanned his surroundings and realised he was lying on a canvas stretcher inside the S.T.A.R.S helicopter. He turned his head to the side and saw Jill sitting on one of the benches attached to the interior wall. She was hunched over, her head resting in her hands.

With an effort, Chris pushed himself upright. It felt like every muscle in his body was screaming out with fatigue.

Jill looked up sharply. "Chris?"

"What…happened?" he asked eventually.

"Grenade." Rebecca replied. "You're lucky – a few feet closer and…"

"I don't feel so lucky right now…" he smiled weakly as he rubbed his dry, sore eyes. "How long was I out?"

"Just a few minutes. Nothing to worry about."

Chris pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead and slowly massaged his brow. He felt the rough surface of a cotton dressing, and almost displaced it.

"Don't move that…you were clipped by some shrapnel. It's nothing serious, but it could get infected."

"Thanks Rebecca." Chris said softly.

She smiled. "But your shoulder…"

Chris took a deep breath as he scanned the helicopter interior. He realised that Jill and Rebecca were there – but where were Leon and Carlos? _And Claire?_ Suddenly, memories of the encounter with Elisabeth Badley and her soldiers on the helipad came flooding back. His body stiffened with panic.

"Claire? Where's Claire?" he demanded as he reached out and grabbed Rebecca's arm, his voice almost frantic. He remembered that a number of speedboats – each one likely to be carrying Lazarus-infected soldiers - were approaching the rig. They must have reached it by now.

"Calm down Chris." Rebecca said, sensing his agitation. She winced as his grip on her arm tightened. "Carlos went to get her…_them_…"

Chris realised he was hurting her, and let go of her arm. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry" he murmured. He took a deep breath and pushed himself up to his feet.

"It's okay." Rebecca said. "Listen, Carlos said..."

"Wait …" Chris said, holding his right hand up in mid-air in order to silence Rebecca. He stood still for a moment, seemingly staring into space. "I can hear gunfire."

"It started just before you came to. Carlos carried you in here and then went out there to bring Claire back. She wasn't responding to her radio. And Leon wasn't…he wasn't…"

Rebecca looked sideways towards Jill. Jill looked down.

"How long?"

"Not long. A couple of minutes maybe."

Chris took a tentative step towards a large, dark green metal box that was pushed against the interior wall of the helicopter, just underneath one of the benches. He leaned over and ripped off the lid which fell to the floor noisily, and then rummaged inside. He pulled out a sub-automatic machine gun and a spare magazine that he rammed into his back pocket.

"I'm going out there." he said, as he turned sharply and made for the exit. However, Chris tripped forwards and had to grab the netting attached to the walls of the helicopter in order to steady himself.

"Chris, you're hurt. You can't…" Rebecca said softly. "Just let Carlos do it."

"No." he said vehemently, gesturing her away with his free hand. His shoulder burned, the pain intensifying with every intake of air. "Rebecca – I need you to make sure that Jill gets out of here. Both of you have got to get out of here. You know what you have to do."

Rebecca looked at the gaping wound on his shoulder. "Chris – you're still losing a lot of blood. I need to fix that wound properly otherwise you'll bleed to dea..."

"Don't worry about me." he interrupted, smiling. But his smile quickly faded. "I'm going to get Claire." He paused and swallowed hard. "_And_ Leon"

"He's gone Chris. Leon's…._gone._ I don't think we can help him anymore."

"I'm not leaving him behind Rebecca"

"I know how you feel Chris, but…"

"The S.T.A.R.S _never_ leave a man behind." he added quietly.

Rebecca shook her head. "You know I can't let you go in that state." She stepped forward and thrust her hand up against the cold metal of the helicopter wall, her arm barring Chris's path.

"I'll be back in a minute."

"_I mean it Chris_."

"Yes, I know you do. But I also know that you can't stop me."

Rebecca could see the determination in his blue eyes. His mind was made up, and there was nothing she could do to stop him. It was his sister after all. The one person he cared more about more than anything else.

"Rebecca….just let him go." a weary voice said.

Rebecca turned her head to face Jill who had stood up and was standing immediately behind her.

"Hey…" Jill said. "Don't be long Redfield."

Chris nodded before yanking open the helicopter door. He was faced with a scene from hell. The rig surface was shrouded in smoke from a number of fires that were consuming all combustible materials in their wake. Bodies and body parts littered the area; the formerly grey concrete of the helipad was now crosscut with rivulets of blood and pieces of torn, bloodied clothing. He could just discern Carlos' solitary outline pressed against the remnants of a stack of metal crates that were now twisted and charred. He was taking fire, the wood close to his head singed and splintering.

Chris took a breath and ran in his colleague's direction.

"Stubborn son of a bitch." Rebecca said quietly as she watched Chris disappear into the smoke.

--

Leon stood up slowly, seemingly oblivious to the commotion that had suddenly erupted around him. He moved to scrape a few errant strands of matted blond hair away from his eyes when he noticed them. Five soldiers, each dressed completely in black, standing menacingly silent and motionless in a tight circle around him. The figures' black balaclavas obscured all of their facial features except for their large red eyes that glowed un-naturally in the dull dawn light. He slowly removed his knife from the leather sheath on his chest.

"So…what are you waiting for?" Leon snarled between heavy breaths.

The black figures remained planted to the spot, staring straight at him, almost as though they were waiting for him to make the first move.

"I said_, what are you waiting for?_" he spat, his voice louder than before.

This time he saw the figure standing directly in front of him twitch. Leon smiled. Even though he couldn't see his face, he sensed his opponent smiling too.

Leon unconsciously tightened the grip on his knife.

"Are you ready?" he taunted, before he drove himself forwards, using both hands to bury the knife into the upper chest cavity of the soldier standing directly in front of him. The soldier emitted a brief gargling noise before crumpling to the floor.

Leon's sudden attack spurred the other soldiers into action. He struggled to evade the hands that that seem to grab at him from all directions. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his left side. He glanced down to a see the bare steel tang of a knife half-buried in his flesh. The nearest soldier stepped back, waiting for his reaction.

"Is that all you've got?" Leon smirked, before he nonchalantly pulled out the foreign metallic object. The small, elongate wound on his waist could be seen to close almost instantly.

Leon threw the knife back and it struck the soldier between the eyes, the force burying the blood-stained blade deeply into his opponent's skull. The soldier's head was thrown backwards with the impact, and he too fell to the floor.

"I guess so."

The remaining three soldiers set upon him again, this time with increased ferocity. Leon felt one pummel his side, trying to attack his most recent wound. But he felt no pain, only excitement. His strength seemed to increase with every passing second. He knew that he could them out any time he wanted. He knew that he was invincible. And he liked it.

Leon swung his knife wildly. He felt a slight resistance behind him as it made contact with flesh. He felt warm fluid splash across the back of his head and drip down into the nape of his neck. He turned quickly on his heel to see two figures crumple to the floor, each clutching their neck, eyes frozen wide open with surprise. The final soldier stepped back. The figure looked at the bodies on the floor, and then at Leon. They stood still and stared at each other, their bodies motionless.

The soldier turned and began to run. Leon shook his head and laughed.

"Why are you running way?" he shouted in the soldier's wake, before he aimed his knife and threw it.

A moment later, there was muffled thump, and the running soldier stumbled. The soldier then fell forwards, holding out his hands to break the fall.

Leon began to walk in the fallen soldier's direction. He could see the soldier's arms reaching, his black-gloved fingers clawing at the concrete in an effort to drag his weight forwards. Taking his time, and savouring his moment of power, Leon caught up with the fallen figure. He watched with amusement as the soldier continued to desperately pull his weight forwards.

"And things were just starting to get interesting." Leon muttered as he leaned forwards, first pulling his knife out of the soldier's back, and then grabbing the fallen soldier's shoulder. He yanked the soldier hard, flipping him over onto his back.

The soldier groaned quietly.

Leon leant forwards and tore off the soldier's balaclava. He gasped as he found himself looking down at a woman. A woman with Elisabeth's face. Against all her obvious efforts, the woman…_soldier_…who resembled Dr Elisabeth Badley began to weep. Leon suddenly realised how small she was compared to himself. He felt like he had just awoken from a dream, and that the events of the last few minutes had been performed by someone else, someone controlling his body.

The female soldier sighed loudly and her eyes closed. Leon stood up and backed away from her, unable to comprehend what he had just done. He looked down at his right hand and saw his large serrated knife drenched in blood. He turned to his right and noticed the slowly rotating blades of the S.T.A.R.S helicopter through the smoke. He saw a figure - it looked like Chris - quickly descend the ramp. Leon began to walk in his direction but he stopped abruptly, staring straight ahead.

"Leon?" a voice called from somewhere behind him.

His shoulders twitched.

"Leon." the voice repeated. "What is it?"

Leon swayed on the spot; his eyes glazing over. His senses felt stifled, like he was enveloped by a thick fog.

"Leon…"

Leon suddenly shrieked and doubled over while clutching his head. His vision became blurred and the sounds all around him were drowned out by the incessant beating of his heart that rang in his ears. He clenched his eyes closed, trying to calm himself. He then became aware of footsteps quickly approaching him from behind. Leon readied his knife and spun around, thrusting its sharp tip blindly forwards.

Hearing a gasp, Leon slowly unclenched his eyes to find himself staring directly into a familiar pair of large blue eyes. He quickly retreated backwards, pulling out the serrated edges of the knife from the folds of black fabric that enveloped the figure standing in front of him.

"CLAIRE!" another voice screamed.

Claire Redfield remained rooted to the spot. She swayed slightly and stared at Leon who was standing still in front of her, a look of disbelief on his face. His mouth was open and he was moving his head slowly from side to side. Claire then looked down at the growing patch of red on her chest. She had to touch it to make sure it was real, that this wasn't an illusion.

"Oh no…Leon…" she murmured.

"NOOOO! CLAIRE!" the other voice screamed again. Chris Redfield, closely followed by Carlos Olivera, sprinted across the rig surface towards his sister.

Claire looked at her right hand that she was now holding up in front of her face. She struggled to focus, but she could just discern the trails of bright red blood rolling down her fingers, onto her palm and finally her wrist. She could literally feel the life draining out of her body. Claire tried to steady herself by locking her knees, although all her strength quickly left her. She felt powerless as she stumbled backwards. Bracing herself mentally for the impact with the hard concrete floor, she gasped as she felt something break her fall.

There was an instant of darkness before Claire realised she was looking skyward into a familiar face. A strong arm supported her head and neck.

"Chris." she said softly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..." Her voice tailed off as she could barely muster the energy to speak.

Chris brushed away a few stray strands of bright red hair that had come loose from her ponytail. Claire's whole body tensed.

"Shhhhh..." Chris whispered, trying to reassure her. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

He pulled a medical dressing from his utility belt and pressed it against the small wound on her upper chest. Claire winced and gritted her teeth as Chris pressed down hoping that the special salve impregnated in the dressing would heal the wound in time, but he'd seen wounds like this in the field before. They were invariably fatal.

"Carlos!" Chris tried to shout, but the lump in his throat muffled his voice.

Claire began to weep.

"It's going to be alright Claire. Everything's going be alright…" Chris forced himself to say the words, even though he knew they might not be true.

"Chris…is she…going to be…" another voice stammered from behind him. It was Leon.

Chris turned his head and glared at the other man, silencing him. The venomous stare made Leon retreat a few steps backward as Chris returned his attention to his sister. He gently stroked her cheek.

Chris looked down at Claire. "It's going to be alright." he whispered again and again, his voice wavering.

Claire slowly reached upward with her right hand and wiped away a single droplet that was trapped in Chris's right eye.

She smiled. "You never could tell lies Chris." Her body suddenly relaxed and her arm fell limp at her side.


	21. Chapter 21 Weak and Powerless

Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil or any of the characters, and I certainly don't make any money out this

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Resident Evil or any of the characters, and I certainly don't make any money out this! The end is nigh! I never thought this was going to be finished, but here it is! Hope you enjoy it!

**Chapter 21 Weak and Powerless**

"Claire?" Chris said, his voice panicked.

There was no response from the woman who was lying motionless in his arms.

Chris shook her gently; he seemed afraid that he would hurt her slight frame. She seemed so small and delicate now.

"Claire?" His voice cracked.

There was still no response, so he shook her again, harder. Chris wrapped both arms around his sister and squeezed hard, inhaling sharply. Leaning backwards, he clenched his eyes shut, fighting the tears that were threatening to expose him.

"Chris…let her go. Let me take her."

Chris looked up to see Carlos' face. The other man was knelt on one knee next to him.

"Chris…" he repeated softly. "Let her go."

Chris nodded and gently eased Claire's body off of his lap and onto the floor.

"Chris…I…I…" Leon took a step toward Chris, but the older man stared at him coldly. "It was an accident. I didn't know she was there. I swear…" Leon held both hands up in a sign of submission. "I never asked for _this_ Chris. To be brought back. I didn't want this to happen. That's why I…why I…wanted to die here."

"Carlos – take Claire back to the chopper." Chris's voice seemed un-naturally calm.

Carlos looked up. "But what about…"

"Just do it." Chris replied.

Carlos eased Claire's limp body onto his shoulder and he stood up. "Don't do anything stupid Chris." he said as he turned and made for the S.T.A.R.S helicopter.

Easing himself upright, Chris took a deep breath and slid his finger onto the trigger of the semi-automatic rifle that was hanging from a heavy duty canvas strap around his shoulder. He turned to face Leon, aiming the gun in the younger man's direction.

"Are you going to kill me now Chris?" Leon asked.

Chris stood still, arm outstretched, his weapon still pointing in Leon's direction.

"I said…" Leon suddenly cried out. His body doubled over while he wrapped his arms around his torso. His fingers dug into his sides and his whole body began to convulse violently. "_You…have to…kill me Chris…please_!" He fell forwards onto his knees, hiding his face. "I…I can't hold it back any more."

Chris remained still, his eyes fixed on the man in front of him.

Leon looked up directly into Chris's eyes. "Please Chris…do it. DO IT NOW!"

"Leon." Chris's voice was calm and controlled. He swallowed. "Leon – you're coming back with us. We're going to help you."

Chris took a small step forwards, but Leon countered with a backward shuffle on his knees.

"I've _never_ left a man behind, and I'm not going to start now."

"Just go Chris!" Leon pleaded.

"No." the other replied defiantly.

"I…hurt her. I'll hurt you too. All of you!"

Chris shook his head.

"Yes, I will. I told you this was my last mission Chris. You said…"

"I don't care what I said!" Chris's voice was no longer calm. " We can help you. Jill has the antibodies for Lazarus in her blood."

"_I said I'm not coming back!_" Leon shouted with frustration. "You need someone to stay here and blow the tanks. You can't do it from the chopper. This is _my_ job."

"No. I'm not going to repeat myself. You're coming…"

Leon cried out again, louder this time, his back arching and his arms flailing backwards before he finally fell forwards onto his hands. His eyes closed and he became still.

"Leon?" Chris took a tentative step forward. "Leon, speak to me."

There was silence as Chris stared at Leon's motionless form.

"You always thought you were better than me, didn't you Chris? You never thought I was good enough for Claire."

"What are you talking about?"

"You always thought you were better than Carlos too, didn't you?"

"Leon..."

"You never really liked Carlos, did you?" Leon looked up at Chris and grinned.

"Leon…why…?."

"Is it because he's a better soldier?" Leon pushed himself to his feet in one fluid movement.

"I know what you're trying to do Leon. It won't work."

"Or is it because of Jill?" Leon sneered.

"This has nothing to do with any of them."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Enough of this crap Leon, you're coming back with me and that's an order."

"An order?" Leon laughed. "Who the hell put you in charge of the S.T.A.R.S anyway? Keller? The guy who's been working for Wesker all along and you didn't know? Very smart Chris, very smart." Leon goaded. "You're no leader, just a fool with a vendetta. You've led us half way around the world chasing ghosts for years, and then you let that Umbrella psychopath in... I mean..._what the hell were you thinking?_"

Chris just stared at him, his face blank. He knew that wasn't Leon speaking, but he wondered if there was an element of truth to his words. Had he been using the S.T.A.R.S – his friends and even his sister, to settle his personal vendetta with Albert Wesker? Had he risked their lives for nothing? Ever since that fateful day at the Spencer Mansion in the Arklay Mountains ten years ago, thoughts of bringing down the Umbrella Corporation and Albert Wesker had all but consumed him. Umbrella was gone and Wesker was dead, but he wasn't feeling the euphoria he expected. He didn't feel a burden lifted from his shoulders because he knew now that there would always be someone, or _something_, to take their place. Because of this, all that mattered to him at this point in time was getting the S.T.A.R.S to safety. And that had to include Leon.

"What's the matter Chris? Truth hurting a bit eh?"

"You don't understand Leon." Chris struggled with his words. He forced the hatred he was feeling for this man to the back of his consciousness. Every fibre in his body told him that he should kill him after what he had done to Claire, that he should exact his revenge while he had the chance. But this man wasn't lost. He could be saved, he just knew it. He wasn't going to lose anyone else. He swore to himself that he would die before he would let another one of his men fall in vain.

"Oh, I understand alright. But _I'm_ better than _you_ now. And I'm going to show you just how much better I've become."

Leon's eyes narrowed before he pounced, propelling his full weight forwards. Chris instinctively raised his weapon to protect himself, but then Leon effortlessly yanked the weapon from Chris's hand and thrust it into his throat while forcing him backwards into a large steel container. The metal reverberated loudly with the impact. Leon began to slowly push the cold metal of the gun further into Chris's throat, restricting his air supply. Chris inhaled sharply, but he was unable to feed any air to his lungs that now felt like they were about to explode. Chris tried to push the gun away, but Leon was too strong and his own strength was rapidly leaving him. He had underestimated just had strong Leon was. He felt weak and powerless against him.

"Leon…" Chris wheezed. "For…God's sake…_I…can't…brea_…"

Neither Chris nor Leon noticed the figure that had approached them, and was now standing a few metres away. There was a sharp intake of breath before the figure spoke, his voice rough and pained.

"Leon – stop."

Both Leon and Chris turned to the side to face the shrunken figure of General Oscar Keller. For an instant, Leon loosened his grip as he stared at the man in confusion. Chris used the distraction to punch Leon square in the jaw with all his remaining strength. Leon's eyes seemed to roll backwards in their sockets before he stumbled backwards and crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Chris coughed and rubbed his neck. An angry red line had appeared where Leon had pressed the gun to his throat. "Everyone wants to kill me today." he moaned.

After taking several deep breaths, Chris looked up in Keller's direction. "I thought you'd run away."

General Oscar Keller took a few steps closer to Chris and put a hand on his shoulder. "As much as I hate to admit it, I nearly did. But I just couldn't do it."

Chris shook the general's hand off his shoulder and shook his head in disbelief. "You finally developed a conscience? Well, congratulations." he said sarcastically.

Keller looked down. "You have to go."

"_What?_"

"You were going to blow the tanks, right? Then let me do it. You take Leon and go."

"Why? Why are you helping us now? How do I know you aren't setting us up again?"

"You have my word Chris."

"You'll die. You do realise that, don't you?"

"I don't deserve to walk away from this. All of this…is my fault. I could have stopped it a long time ago, but I chose a different path. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong."

"And you think doing this will make it everything alright?"

"What's done is done, there's nothing I can do to make it all right again. But _you_ have to survive Chris. You'll never know just how important you are. The S.T.A.R.S need your strength for what's coming."

A small explosion at the far side of the rig, followed by semi-automatic gunfire, made Chris flinch. He realised that the S.T.A.R.S helicopter was coming under attack. It was an easy target while grounded on the helipad.

"You have to go Chris, now. More of them are coming and they won't let you escape."

Chris took a deep breath, lent forwards and hoisted Leon's inert body over his shoulder. His legs almost buckling under the weight, he gritted his teeth as he fought back the latest wave of pain to envelop his body. Although he couldn't see it, he sensed the blood pouring from the open wound on his shoulder at a greater rate than before. Holding onto Leon with one hand, he realised that he was starting to lose the feeling in his fingers. He felt cold and his eyes struggled to remain focussed. He knew that his body was dying. The S.T.A.R.S helicopter was less than fifty metres away, but it had never looked so far.

"Be careful of Senator Ephraim Carter. He's a very powerful man, in more ways than you can imagine."

Chris began to walk towards the helicopter, placing one foot slowly in front of the other. He tried to pick up his pace and run, but he no longer had the strength. He felt like he was walking waist deep in a viscous fluid, every molecule impeding his progress.

"Chris…"

Chris stopped, but he didn't look back towards Keller.

"I have no right to ask, but I want you to do something for me." Keller inhaled loudly. "My family, my…children and grandchildren. Don't let them know about me, what I did. They don't need to know anything about Lazarus. Please let them keep their memories. I know I don't deserve it, but they don't deserve to know what their father did. They've already lost their mother…" his voice trailed off into silence.

Chris clenched his eyes shut and took a deep breath, but then he continued his slow, languid pace towards the helicopter without responding, and without looking back.

--

"Claire – you stay with me, okay! Do you hear me?"

Rebecca Chambers filled a large syringe with clear fluid and injected it directly into a vein in Claire Redfield's arm. She then attached an oxygen mask to the red-haired woman's face who was quietly murmuring something inaudible.

"Is she going to make it?" Jill asked. Jill was crouched down next to the canvas stretcher that Claire was lying on.

Rebecca shook her head. "It's a deep wound; she needs surgery as soon as possible."

"_But is she going to make it?_" Jill pressed.

"We have to get back to headquarters."

"Rebecca, tell me!"

"I don't think I can bring her back a second time."

"Then we keep her awake. Keep talking to her Rebecca. We've got to keep her with us."

"_Where the hell is he?_" Carlos Olivera was leant against the inside wall of the helicopter, close the main door, with a weapon readied in his hands. "We have got to go!"

"He'll be here Carlos. Just give him one more minute." Jill pleaded.

Suddenly there was an explosion outside that made the helicopter shake. Jill's eyes darted across to Rebecca who looked straight back at her with concern.

"Right, that's it. We're leaving…" Carlos made his way to the front of the helicopter to where the S.T.A.R.S pilot, Justin Haines, was sitting. The young green-eyed man looked nervous as he continually checked and re-checked all the readings on the instrument panel in front of him.

"Let's go Justin." Carlos ordered.

Justin nodded and began to press a sequence of switches. The helicopter propellers began to rotate faster.

"No – wait!" Jill shouted as she stood up and moved to the front of the helicopter. "We have to give them more…"

Jill was interrupted by a single heavy thump on the helicopter door. Her eyes darted to left towards Carlos who immediately ran back to the door, his gun ready.

There was another thump on the door, this time it seemed harder and louder, more desperate.

Carlos placed his spare hand on the metal handle. "You ready?"

Jill nodded and aimed her weapon at the door. "Do it." she said calmly. "Open the door."

Carlos pulled the handle and the door slid open. His view was momentarily obscured by smoke and floating debris held in the updraft from the helicopter. A hunched figure stepped forward.

"Chris!"

Chris Redfield stepped forward into the helicopter and fell to his knees, exhausted. Carlos and Jill rushed forward and eased Leon's unconscious body off Chris's shoulder, and placed him gently on the floor.

"Secure him. He's going to wake up soon and…" Chris grimaced and his hand unconsciously reached for his injured shoulder.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing Chris. I mean, I know it's Leon and all, but bringing him back with us in this state…"

"We don't leave anyone behind Carlos." Chris glanced at Jill. "Not when there's even the smallest chance that they can be saved."

Carlos nodded. "Justin!" he shouted towards the front of the helicopter. "Let's go! Now!"

The S.T.A.R.S helicopter shuddered as it slowly left the ground. Chris slowly knelt down beside Claire who was still lying motionless on the canvas stretcher. Rebecca was still tending to the knife wound on Claire's upper chest.

"Is she…" Chris swallowed hard. "Is she…"

Rebecca briefly looked up at Chris and gasped. He was deathly pale and shaking, his clothes covered in blood. The wound on his shoulder was open and bleeding profusely, the dressing hanging tattered and torn.

"Oh my God Chris, you look like…" Rebecca leaned forward to inspect his wound, but Chris waved her away.

"Look after Claire first." he said. Rebecca noticed he struggled to speak. "How is she?"

"She's fighting. She's strong and healthy – if anyone can make it through this, it's Claire."

A tear formed in Chris's eye. He made no attempt to hide it.

"Chris - let _me_ take care of that wound." Jill said as she beckoned him to sit on one of the benches attached to the interior helicopter wall.

Chris virtually crawled across to the bench and struggled to lift himself up. Noticing this, Jill moved behind him and helped him up.

"You did the right thing Chris." she whispered in his ear.

"Did I?" he asked, seemingly unsure of himself.

"Yes you did." she replied. "You always do."

--

General Oscar Keller was standing on the rig platform, a small handgun in his left hand. He was staring straight ahead at a series of massive stainless steel gas tanks. His hands were trembling and beads of sweat were leaving a sticky trace along the side of his face. A large gust of wind made him turn his head and he saw the S.T.A.R.S helicopter slowly lift up from the helipad and head for the horizon. A number of soldiers were firing their weapons at the helicopter, although their bullets bounced harmlessly off the reinforced steel fuselage.

Oscar smiled sadly. "Good luck, Chris." he said quietly.

"He's going to need it." a female voice replied.

Oscar spun around to see who had just spoken.

"Elisabeth! What…."

His eyes opened in horror as he inspected what was left of her body. Her left arm was missing and deep cuts were visible over nearly every inch of visible flesh. The left side of her face was severely burnt and her left eye was swollen closed.

"Oscar." She slid to the floor. "I'm a bit of a mess."

"What happened to you?"

She laughed, but the laugh quickly turned into a sob. "It doesn't matter. I don't think Lazarus is going to get me out of this one."

"No, I don't think it will." Oscar said apologetically.

Elisabeth sighed. "So, you're going to blow this place up."

Oscar realised it wasn't a question, moreover it was a statement.

"So we're going to go together then, Oscar?"

"We started this together, so it's only fair we finish it together." Oscar said.

With a great effort, Elisabeth pushed herself to a seated position and leaned back against a toppled metal crate. She grimaced as her clumsy movements pulled at the wounds that covered her body. Oscar walked across to Elisabeth and sat down next to her, his mature body creaking with the effort. She slowly turned her head to face him.

"Can I ask you a question? And you have to give me an honest answer."

Oscar nodded.

"Am I _real_?"

"You look very real to me."

"That's not what I mean." Her breathing was slow and laboured. "Am I the _real_ Elisabeth Badley, not a clone, but the real person?"

"You should know the answer to that Elisabeth."

"Yes. I think I do." She looked down at her hand that lay motionless in her lap. "Oscar…"

Oscar didn't reply. She noted that he was staring at the S.T.A.R.S helicopter as it attained what seemed like enough distance and altitude to escape the impending explosion. He raised his arm and aimed his weapon at the gas tanks.

"I'm sorry Oscar."

"_Sorry?_"

"Yes." she replied quietly. "We came so close. I guess I just didn't think things through. They were better than I thought."

"None of that matters anymore Elisabeth." His finger twitched on the trigger.

"No, I suppose it doesn't." she said wistfully. "Not where we're going anyway."

Oscar closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. There was a brief delay before he heard Elisabeth cry out next to him and he felt an intense heat tear at his face. Then he felt nothing.

--

The S.T.A.R.S helicopter lurched heavily to one side and the propeller blades made an un-nerving grinding sound. Jill and Chris grasped the heavy canvas netting attached to the helicopter walls in order to steady themselves.

"Justin – what's going on?" Carlos shouted towards the cockpit.

"We got caught in the shockwave. Don't worry. We're clear."

Chris let go of the canvas netting and glanced towards Carlos who was kneeling next to Leon. Leon was lying silently on the floor, his eyes tightly closed, his pale face and blond hair streaked with congealed blood. Carlos was in the process of tying Leon's ankles and wrists together with plastic cord.

"He's not going to like this." Carlos said as he pulled the cords tight.

Chris pushed himself off the bench and knelt down next to his sister, much to Jill's annoyance as she was about to dress his shoulder wound. Claire's eyes were half-open.

Chris smiled. "Hey." he said gently, trying to hide his relief.

"Chris." she murmured quietly. Chris had to lean right down to within a few inches of her face in order to hear her voice. "Is it over?" she whispered.

Chris took hold of her hand and squeezed it gently. "Yes." he replied. "We made it Claire. All of us. We _all_ made it."

Lacking the strength to sit upright any longer, Chris lay down on the metal grille floor next to Claire, without letting go of her hand. Chris's exhaled loudly before his eyes closed and he fell into a deep sleep.

"I knew we would. Chris…"

There was no response.

"Chris?" Claire's eyes darted to the right where she saw her brother lying fast asleep, a peaceful look on his face. She smiled and her eyes also closed. "We'll talk later."


	22. Epilogue

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Resident Evil or any of the characters, and I certainly don't make any money out this! A huge thank you to those of you who have stuck through this story since the beginning. It's quite a commitment to stick with a bit of a behemoth like this, especially when there are so many great fanfics to choose from. Without all of your encouraging comments, it would have been very difficult to finish. I never thought I would ever write something this huge, but it's been fun and challenging in equal amounts. Anyway, I really hope you've enjoyed it, and not found my periods of inactivity annoying! I'm not a writer by trade, this was just a bit of fun about some characters that I have come to love over the many years that I have been playing the games. Who knows, I may carry this story on at some point….

**Epilogue**

Chris Redfield was sitting alone on a low stone wall in the gardens of the S.T.A.R.S headquarters. He was wearing a smart black suit with a crisp white shirt and polished shoes that had made his feet ache. A slack-knotted tie hung around his neck. It was dusk, and the sun was just dropping below the horizon staining the sky with streaks of orange and red. The sudden drop in temperature made the hairs on his arms prick up, but he was so deep in thought that he didn't notice.

Chris sighed and shifted his position on the wall, knocking loose patches of cement that held the stone bricks together. He leaned forwards and his head melted into his hands. This was perhaps the first time he had been alone in several weeks, and the first time he had to evaluate the events of the last few months in his head. He felt strangely empty, like there was a gaping hole where his emotions should be.

He breathed in deeply and opened his eyes. He looked across at the horizon as the brilliant orange of the sun quickly disappeared beneath the hills. Chris couldn't remember the last time he had watched the sunset.

A bottle of beer suddenly appeared in front of him. Chris traced the length of the delicate hand and arm that was brandishing the brown glass bottle with his eyes to find the figure of his sister, Claire, standing behind him on the other side of the wall.

Chris smiled and patted the space next to him with his left hand before taking the bottle. Claire smiled in reply and winced a little as she lowered herself onto the wall next to her brother. He stood up to help her, but she waved him away.

"I'm just a little sore, that's all." she sighed as she came to rest on the stone seat.

Chris looked at her, concerned. "You shouldn't be up yet. Besides…" he smiled. "Rebecca will give _me_ the lecture, not you, if she finds you sitting out here!"

"Well, that's what brother's do. They take the heat for their little sister!" Claire grinned mischievously in response. Claire's face suddenly turned serious. "Let's make a promise."

"What kind of promise?" Chris said before taking a large swig of beer from the bottle.

"To never fight again." Claire said with conviction. "I don't ever want things to be bad between us. You're my brother. I need you. _More than anything._"

Chris shuffled along the wall a little to be closer to Claire. He put his bottle of beer down on the floor in front of him and wrapped his left arm around her shoulder, gently squeezing her. Claire instinctively rested her head on him.

"Are you alright Claire? I know you've been trying to put on a brave face on all of this, Leon and everything…"

Chris could feel his sister tense slightly. Claire pulled away from Chris and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She was staring straight towards the ground.

"I'm sorry Claire. If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay."

"No, it's alright." she replied quietly.

"Really, I didn't mean to push you."

Claire smiled and turned her head a little to face Chris. She could see his concern for her in his eyes. She reached out her hand and placed it on his to try to alleviate some of the worry she knew he always felt for her.

"Honestly Chris, I'm fine." She sighed. "Well, as fine as I can be right now anyway. Don't worry about me."

Chris's lips twitched. He was trying to find the right words to say, but as he usually found in emotional situations like his, he just didn't know what to say that would help.

"You know Chris, for just a minute on that rig, I felt hope. There _was_ a way to get him back. I saw a future for us. A _real_ relationship, with romantic meals in classy restaurants, trips to the movies...maybe even marriage." Claire choked back a tear and shook her head sadly. "Ignore me, I'm just being silly. I know now that I'm never going to have those things. At least, not with the man I chose."

"If there's anyone that can help him, it's Rebecca."

"I know." Claire replied, forcing herself to smile.

"She's doing everything she can." Chris said. "She's sure she can do it, especially now that she's begun to synthesise a new serum with the antibodies extracted from Jill's blood."

Chris wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Claire or himself. Leon was still in a bad state, many weeks after the events on the rig. Every day since then, he'd questioned his decision to bring Leon back, rather than to leave him on the rig to finally rest in peace. But he couldn't let go of his colleague…his friend…not after everything they had gone through.

Claire suddenly slapped Chris on the thigh.

"Anyway, enough about me, what about you?" Her tone of voice was suddenly more up beat.

"The shoulder's fine." Chris replied, a little taken aback by Claire's sudden change. "Rebecca said I have to stop getting myself hurt like this because I'm getting old…"

"That's not what I meant."

Chris smiled. "Everything's…as good as can be expected."

He leaned forward and picked up the bottle of beer. Despite the smile, Claire sensed her brother was troubled.

"Carlos said things didn't go too well." Claire said gently.

Chris shook his head sadly. "Even when faced with the evidence, they won't indict him. But then, I guess if you have as much money and influence as Ephraim Carter, the law just doesn't apply anymore."

Chris felt his grip tighten involuntarily on the beer bottle as he went over the events of the afternoon. Even though they had presented all the evidence they had accumulated on Ephraim Carter over the past few months, a number of high ranking army officials had the audacity to suggest the S.T.A.R.S were, in some part, responsible. That they had '_exacerbated what was a manageable crisis_' according to one of the more weasly-looking generals. The only positive from the meeting was the fact that the S.T.A.R.S weren't going to be disbanded, only it was probable that they would be kept on a much tighter leash by the military from now on.

Claire broke the silence. ''I just don't get it Chris. We sacrifice _everything _but we get nothing. Nowhere.''

Claire knew that they had got through this latest crisis only by the skin of their teeth. Albert Wesker was defeated, dead, but just like Chris, she felt no elation. She felt no peace. This small victory had almost cost her her life. It had probably cost her Leon.

''I know how you feel Claire. I feel exactly the same.'' Chris said reassuringly.

''Then _why_ do we do this? It's never going to end. _Why do we do this Chris?"_

''Because it's our job Claire" Chris said calmly. "And we've got to finish it.''

_The end?_


End file.
